Road Trip
by nubianamy
Summary: It's summer, and Kurt convinces Finn and Puck to come with him to the gay dance club in Dayton. A romantic one-shot, not part of the Donutverse. Puck/Finn, brotherly Kurt. Spoilers through end of season 2; last chapter has spoilers for season 4.
1. Chapter 1

Finn was surprised by Kurt's invitation to go to the gay dance club in Dayton. The surprising thing wasn't that Kurt wanted him to go. It was that his father was willing to let them.

Kurt had the thing all planned out before he sprung it on them after dinner, while they were all cleaning up. "It's this great club called Masque," Kurt explained, his hands telling the story as much as his bright eyes. His voice always got really high when he was excited, and right now, he sounded a little like Beyonce. "Blaine says it's awesome. They have real DJs and everything. Usually you have to be 18 to get in, but they have one night each month when it's open to kids 16 and up. That night is _this Friday_." He looked at Burt with hope. "Can I go, Dad? Please? I wouldn't drink, and I wouldn't forget anything you told me about being safe. Really."

Carole and Burt had listened to Kurt's plea with polite silence, occasionally making eye contact while they cleared the table. "Dayton's almost two hours away, Kurt," said Burt at last. "I wouldn't feel comfortable with you driving home so late at night."

"I thought about that, too," said Kurt. "I have enough money saved up for cover _and_ a motel room. I could come home right after breakfast. It would be completely safe."

"That sounds reasonable," Carole said. Kurt shot her a grateful smile, and she covered her grin with a napkin. "But you wouldn't want to go alone, would you? Would Blaine go too?"

"Blaine is at music camp until next Thursday. I don't mind going by myself, _really._ Dad, _please."_

"If you and your brother both go, you can look out for one another," Burt said, drying the macaroni dish. "I would trust Finn to take care of any… problems that come up." _Problems_, Finn guessed, translated into something like _big hairy guys who want to prey on my innocent son._ Or possibly _stupid drinking even though you promised not to._

Kurt turned his pleading gaze on Finn. Finn stopped eating and looked at Burt, but they were all looking at him.

"Um." Finn took one last bite of macaroni and chewed, swallowed, before responding. "For one thing, I don't know if you noticed recently, but, I can't dance. Even Mr. Schue says so. Not really down with the dance club idea."

"Finn, _nobody_ can dance at a dance club. That's not the point." Kurt spoke with extreme authority, Finn thought, for someone who'd never actually been to a dance club. "Everyone has a good time anyway. You go because you want to dance, not because you're good at it. And you do _like_ to dance, right?"

"In front of a hundred other guys?" Finn rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know."

Carole laughed. "How is it different from prom? And, honey, you danced in front of _thousands_ of people at Nationals."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out," he said. "Plus, being on stage is totally different. And, second thing? I'm not gay. Don't you need, like, a card or something?"

Kurt stared at him, amused. "A gay ID badge? Oh, yeah, they issue them when you pick up your first subscription to OUT Magazine." He rolled his eyes and tried to brush his bangs back from his forehead, a nervous gesture left over from last year's style. "No, Finn, the club is open to straight people, too. I hear it's about half and half. It's the dance part that I care about. I'm not interested in… you know. Picking anybody up."

"I should hope not," said Burt, swatting Kurt with the damp towel as he walked by. "You're way too young to be thinking about that."

"Really? And how old were _you_ when you started thinking about that?" Carole crossed her arms and leaned back on the stove. Burt raised an eyebrow.

"Not helping here, Carole," he said, but she just laughed.

"Dad. Focus. We're not talking about my love life. This is about _dancing._ I just want to go someplace where I can really cut loose. This is an opportunity – a rite of passage! One night of crazy, pointless abandon. Something I can remember while I'm putting in extra hours at the garage this summer." He looked pointedly at his father, who sighed.

Carole put her hands on Finn's shoulders and squeezed. "Come on, Finn, it wouldn't be so bad. It sounds kind of fun." She smiled at Kurt. "I remember plenty of times I went to the club with my friends when I was in college… it was a blast. We took turns driving everybody else home afterwards."

"Still not helping," Burt murmured.

"Finn, I'll pay your cover, _and _do your chores for the rest of the month," Kurt said. Finn twisted his lips. "And July?"

Finn sighed. "It's okay, Kurt. You don't have to do that. I'll go." He endured Kurt's squeal and victory hug with patient stoicism. "But Rachel's on vacation with her dads. I'm going to ask Puck to come. I don't think I can tolerate being the only straight person there."

"Finn, I said, you won't be," Kurt promised, hanging on his arm. "I bet there'll be a zillion girls just waiting to… um." He looked at Carole. "Dance with you."

Finn nodded with good humor, and put his fork in Kurt's hand. "Here. You can start those chores as of now."

* * *

><p>Puck picked up the phone on the second ring. "You remember that big favor you owe me?" said Finn on the other end.<p>

"No," replied Puck, taking his dinner out of the microwave. "What's the deal?"

"Kurt wants me to go to this dance club in Dayton on Friday night. Burt says he can go if I go with him. Would you come? Road trip. Plus I need someone to tell me I don't look ridiculous dancing."

Puck felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He sat down at the table slowly. "You do look ridiculous," he said, going for jovial. "What's the club?"

"I forget. Some gay bar. They're supposed to be cool, though. Kurt said there's about half and half gay and straight folks."

_More like two thirds gay, but who's counting?_ Puck thought, and shook his head. "Whatever. Yeah, I'll go. But really, road trip my ass. It's, what, an hour away? Hardly counts. But still. Should be good for a few laughs."

"Kurt has money for a motel, so we don't have to drive home until the next day."

Puck swallowed. "Better and better. Can I bring beer?"

"I was counting on it," Finn said quietly, and Puck could hear him grinning. "You're the only one with a fake ID."

"All right. I'll take care of it. I'll see you guys on Friday."

"Thanks, Puck," Finn said. "I owe you one." He hung up.

Puck took a slow, deep breath, and let it out. "Fuck." _Well, they were bound to find out eventually. Might as well be now._

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, flipped it open, dug behind his driver's license for his fake ID. _Jason Walker,_ he read_._ Jason was 22, which he thought he pulled off pretty convincingly for a sixteen year old. Behind the card there was a worn, folded flyer, which he unfolded, shaking his head.

_Masque,_ the flyer advertised, with a photo of the bar and the dance floor that he knew so well. A small inset at the bottom showed a familiar shirtless dancer striking a pose. He remembered they had to take a dozen shots before they got one that was acceptably anonymous, and didn't show his nipple ring. _Saturday Nights – Pole Dancing by Jason!_

"Jason," he said with resignation, "time to meet Finn."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt came out of his bedroom and stopped, looking at Finn sitting on the couch watching a rerun of CSI: Miami, with his feet propped on the coffee table. "Finn," he said, and his voice was deadly. "Tell me you aren't wearing… _that…_ to the club tonight."

Finn looked up at him, confused. "Um… I'm not?"

"No," Kurt said, giving him jazz hands. He turned to Finn's mother, seated beside him on the couch. "No, no. Carole, tell him he's not wearing that shirt to Masque."

"Finn," she said, somewhat apologetically, "you've owned that shirt for three years. It's a little small on you."

"I love this shirt," he said, looking at it more closely. "Well, okay, there's this little rip under the sleeve, but… oh, and I guess there's a stain here. And some paint."

"Yeah," said Kurt, nodding and crossing his arms. "And the shoes. You're not meeting the shiny test."

"The what?" Finn said, leading Kurt to pick up his enormous feet from the coffee table and drop them onto the floor. "Hey."

"Your shoes. Can you shine them? No? Then you can't wear them to a dance club."

Finn looked at Kurt suspiciously. "Whose rules are these? Who came up with them? What's wrong with dressing for comfort?"

"Not when you're paying to put yourself on display, you don't," Kurt said. "Look at me. Come on, I know you don't generally notice, but take a look. What do you see?"

"Well," said Finn, and then stopped, looking at Kurt closely. He had on a black blazer with an open neckline and something under it – was that _mesh?_ – and a pair of tailored olive slacks. His shoes were shiny and had laces. Finn thought he saw some color on his ankles. He picked up the cuff on Kurt's pants, causing Kurt to swat at his hand, but Finn caught green and tan argyle socks underneath before Kurt fended him off. "Wow," he said. "You look… really good."

"See? You don't even look at guys and you noticed." Kurt put up one hand as though it were obvious. "You need to dress like you care. Then the girls you want to impress will notice too. The better you look, the more confident you'll feel, and everything just goes more smoothly."

"I don't have anything like this," Finn said. Kurt laughed.

"I wouldn't expect you to have a Marc Jacobs blazer, Finn, or Manolo Blahnik oxfords, but then I doubt you would spend more than $50 on a shirt, either. Carole, does he have a button down shirt that doesn't scream Ohio hick?"

"I think I can find something," she said, smiling, ducking into Finn's room.

"You have a pair of khakis?" Finn nodded, bemused. "Okay. Hmm… shoes… any slip-ons? Rockports?" This was met with a blank stare. Kurt sighed, followed Carole into Finn's bedroom, and returned minutes later with a pair of brown tie shoes and some khaki socks. "These will do. Go put on your khakis, and for God's sake, Finn, don't wear tighty-whities."

"Who's going to see my underwear?" he protested, as Kurt hauled him off the sofa and pushed him into the room. His mom met him on the way out and handed him a dark blue oxford.

"You never know, Finn," she said, giving him a leer.

"Mom!"

"I'm just saying," she said, shrugging. "It can't hurt to be prepared. What if you have to go to the –"

"They always make you take off your underwear at the hospital, Mom," he cut her off, "so that excuse doesn't really work, does it? Besides, what would I care if I were the one lying on the gurney?"

"Not really an image you want to be putting in your old mother's brain just before you head off to Dayton," she said, more conversationally this time, but there was a strain in it.

Kurt stopped her and put his hand on her arm. "Carole, I promise, nothing is going to happen to Finn, or me," he said, and she nodded, patting his hand.

"I know. I know. It's just… as much as your dad acts like he doesn't want you to have fun on this trip, he really does. And I really want you to be safe, and come home in one piece." She cocked her head at him. "Can you try really hard to do that?"

"That's my job, Mom," said Finn. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry. We'll be fine."

"I trust you," she said, and both boys were sure she was talking to him.

Finn found a clean pair of khakis and a grey pair of boxer briefs. He thought a minute, then found the wildest dress socks he could find – which weren't even as cool as Kurt's argyle ones, but at least they were silly and had fish on them – and slipped his feet into the Rockports.

"All right," Kurt nodded, appearing behind him as he buttoned up the shirt. "That's much better. You look acceptable."

"Hey!" Carole said, approvingly. "I think acceptable won't quite cut it." She fixed the buttons on his collar. "How about adorable?"

"Mom," Finn protested, and Kurt laughed.

"Adorable is just right for Finn." Finn rolled his eyes, which just made both of them laugh harder.

"I can't believe I'm letting you dress me," he muttered. "Let's not talk about this, okay?"

"Talk about what?" said Puck, sauntering into the room. He leaned up against the door frame and took in the scene. "Hi, Mrs. Hudson. Nice shirt, Kurt. Not everybody can pull off mesh."

Finn, with his fashion-awakened senses, looked at Puck. He really _looked _at him, in the same way he'd just _looked_ at Kurt. Puck had on black jeans, but Finn noticed they were a little more closely fitting, almost more like the pants Kurt was wearing than an ordinary pair of jeans. They fit neatly into the lace-up boots on Puck's feet, and he had on a belt. His shirt was grey, but Finn had to get a little closer to notice it was really pinstriped dark grey on light grey. It was open at the throat, a few buttons lower than Finn's, and the fabric was fine and looked like it would be soft to the touch. Finn put out a hand to feel it before Puck cleared his throat and took a little step back, raising an eyebrow.

"Um," Finn said, and he realized what it looked like he'd been doing, and he blushed. "Hi, Puck," he said, belatedly.

"Are those Kenneth Coles?" Kurt said, nodding approval at Puck's boots.

"Yeah, well, we can't all be lucky enough to find Manolo Blahnik vintage in our size, can we?" Puck said, and Kurt stared at him a minute before smiling.

"You guys about ready to hit the road?" Puck asked. "There's usually a bunch of bad traffic right around Dayton on Fridays, so we're going to want to get going soon if we want to dodge it."

"Do you know that area, Puck?" Carole asked. Puck shrugged.

"I have, um, a regular appointment in the city, so yeah, I go there sometimes."

Carole nodded. "Puck, Burt's going to want to make sure he has your cell phone number, so can you write it on a note and leave it on the fridge? Oh, and Kurt, when you get to the city, get your motel right away, and call us with the name and number of your room. It would just make everything a lot easier if we know where you are."

"Okay, Carole," said Kurt. "It's going to be fine."

"I just can't believe you're such… _young men,"_ she said, taking them all in with a rueful smile. Finn sighed, and she shook her head. "I'm not trying to be a pain, Finn. Just give me a moment to enjoy you before you run off and leave us with an empty nest, okay?"

"I don't think anyone's running anywhere, Mom," Finn said. "We've still got senior year, right?"

"And all summer," added Kurt, moving them out of Finn's bedroom. "It'll be epic."


	3. Chapter 3

(Author's note: I am having way too much fun with this story. If you want to listen along to the boys on their car trip, you can download the Road Trip mix in its entirety here: http:/ www. mediafire. com/?yx5re2igqf3day2 You can import the Road Trip Mix text file into iTunes to create the playlist (File - Library - Import Playlist). Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>The weather was ideal for June in Ohio: warm, sunny, with a little breeze, but not too humid. Puck felt only a tiny twinge of nervousness as they headed for Kurt's Range Rover. Finn's legs took up too much room in the back, so Puck said he was willing to sit behind Kurt and give up the coveted shotgun position. "Hey, better access to the beer back here," he said, holding up a bottle of Rolling Rock.<p>

"You brought alcohol?" Kurt hissed, darting a look back at the house, but no spy cameras or detectives came out of the woodwork. Finn patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. It's cheaper and safer than buying drinks at the bar. Just a little fortification before we go in. No need to drink while you're driving, though."

"Yeah, thanks for driving, buddy," Puck said, patting his other shoulder and smirking. Kurt gave him a look that could melt steel and started up the car, but he brightened as he presented Finn with a CD. He handed a copy back to Puck.

"What's this? Oh, yeah!" Finn nodded approval as he looked at the tracks on the homemade mix. "Driving music! This is awesome. Look, Dave Matthews, Boston, Foreigner – I love this stuff."

"I know," Kurt preened. "Look, every third song is for each of us. Rock 80s ballads for Finn, showtunes for me, R&B for Puck."

"India Arie? Isn't she for chicks?" Puck said, frowning.

"Your music collection doesn't lie, Puck," said Kurt. "I stole all the CDs from your truck to make this mix."

Puck avoided Kurt's gaze in the rear view mirror. He had the feeling Kurt might understand if he said that he sometimes stayed awake until 3am listening to "He Heals Me" on repeat, but not under pain of death would he have said it aloud, especially not in present company.

Luckily there was plenty of overlap between the three boys' tastes in music to provide mutual appreciation for at least some of the songs, so those few tunes that only suited one of them did not cause any friction. And they all sang along with "La Vie Boheme" from Rent (Finn surprised Kurt by knowing all the lyrics) and Cee Lo's unexpurgated version of "Fuck You."

"Don't miss the Gnarls Barkley track later, Puck," said Kurt, changing lanes. "That's really Cee Lo, too, in an earlier collaborative incarnation. He won a Grammy for that album."

"Nice," said Puck, nodding approval. "Thanks, Kurt. This is cool."

Kurt beamed his thanks, and the earlier tension was erased. Suddenly they were just three guys in a car, driving with the windows down, not a care in the world. Puck watched the highway rush past, appreciating the view on the familiar drive with new excitement. Regardless of what else happened when they got there, it was going to be a fun weekend. He could feel it.

"How come Mercedes isn't coming with us, Kurt?" Finn asked, graciously. "She's in town, right?"

"Her parents wouldn't let her go," Kurt moaned. "Isn't that so middle school? I couldn't believe it."

"Not everybody is as cool as your parents," Puck said. "Some of us just don't bother to ask permission."

Finn twisted around in the passenger seat to stare at Puck. "Your mom doesn't know where you're going?"

"No, she does," he assured him. "She just doesn't know what we're doing there. She thinks I'm performing at an open mic. It's how I explained the clothes."

"Hey, does that mean you brought your guitar?" Finn leaned back further, craning his neck, almost into Puck's lap, and Puck nudged him back into his seat with his foot.

"Yeah, it's back there. Dude, you're going to give yourself a hernia."

"Will you play something?" Finn's expression was so excited and hopeful that Puck laughed.

"It's not like you've never heard me play guitar, man," he said.

But Finn shook his head, cajoling, "Come on, it's the road trip."

It was like the words had capital letters: Road Trip. Or even, The Road Trip. Puck swallowed suddenly on the lump in his throat. _Nothing would ever again be as easy, nothing would be as simple, as it was right now_, he thought. And, to be honest, when had he ever denied Finn anything he'd asked for? Puck found himself nodding, and took off his seat belt to get his Taylor out of its case.

Kurt was silent as Puck carefully tuned up, keeping the wheel steady, and pressed pause on the CD player right in the middle of "Nobody Needs to Know" from The Last Five Years without any complaint. They both watched Finn grinning like an idiot and sitting sideways in his seat, facing Puck like a fan at his favorite show. Inside, Puck was warmed, knowing Finn had always been and would always be his biggest fan, whether he deserved it or not.

Before they could say anything, he launched into a complicated rendition of Yes' "The Clap." It was his go-to instrumental for impressing chicks, and it worked equally well on Finn, every time. Finn watched his hands carefully as they moved over the fingerboard, playing each syncopation and beat with practiced style. Puck almost messed up a few times, he was so wrapped up in watching Finn watching his fingers.

"I love that one," Finn said when he was done, grinning big, and Puck grinned back, feeling stupidly happy.

"Requests, gentlemen?" Puck offered, strumming a chord progression. Kurt suggested "Blackbird" by the Beatles, which was a tune they all knew and could sing along to, and they even did some impromptu harmony that sounded pretty good. After that Finn made him play "Dust in the Wind," which he could do in his sleep, but was still a perfect sing-along for three guys. After that he thought some Hoyt Axton would cut the mood, and they all rocked along to "Joy to the World." Kurt made him crack up when he suggested "Jack and Diane" by John Mellencamp, but he knew all the words; Puck thought it wasn't easy to sing "Dribble off those Bobby Brooks, let me do what I please" with a straight face, but Kurt managed it. "My dad loves Mellencamp," he explained simply, and Puck got it.

It went on like this for the rest of the trip, and Kurt's mix CD was forgotten. Suddenly they were pulling into the unloading dock of the Doubletree Hilton. Puck felt like he'd been in a musical vortex for the past hour and a half. His hand was cramped. He couldn't stop smiling.

Finn noticed Puck's mood, which was unusual in and of itself, but then he went a step further and said something about it. He bumped shoulders with Puck as they climbed out of the Range Rover and got his attention.

"Something happens when you sing together with someone else, you know?" he said quietly. "Something pretty awesome. It's like all the confusion and distance goes away. It happens in Glee, right? So it happened here for us, for you and me and Kurt. Thanks for making that happen, man." He put a hand on Puck's arm, and his fingers lingered on his sleeve. "Nice shirt," he added, then picked up his duffel and went through the glass doors to the motel lobby.

Puck touched his own sleeve, then let his hand fall to his side, watching him walk away.


	4. Chapter 4

"We're only three blocks from the club," Kurt said, opening the curtains to the eighth floor balcony and sliding open the glass doors. "We can just walk right down the street, and walk back afterwards."

"Awesome, man," said Finn, looking out the window at the view of the city. Puck followed him out, after he'd found a safe place to stash his guitar. Dayton looked much prettier than Puck had ever expected, from this high up. The sun wasn't even close to setting, and the rush of traffic and smell of the city was muted up here. He could see the lines of the streets running up toward the Great Miami River, just a few blocks north.

Puck felt the residual closeness of their experience in the car, and he turned to Kurt, leaning on the balcony. "This is really great, Kurt," he said. "I don't even care what happens tonight. I had so much fun already."

Kurt looked at him in surprise, a smile on his lips. "Thanks," he said. "That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Yeah, well, that's not hard," Puck said. "I haven't been the nicest to you."

"No," said Kurt. Then he added, "But it's different now. Since joining Glee, and all the stuff with Karofsky. Since I went to Dalton. I'm stronger now."

"I got thrown into the dumpster a couple times," Puck said, "and I spent almost a whole day in that portapotty. I guess it doesn't exactly make up for what I did, but… I guess I hope you just know I understand where you were, how it was for you." He shook his head, and said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Thanks," said Kurt again. "That… well, it counts for something. It does."

They stood there for a few minutes, looking out over the city in silence while Finn looked up restaurant details on his phone. "How about Five Guys Burgers and Fries?" he said.

"Fine with me," Puck said. Kurt's mouth twisted, but he nodded his assent.

"They're junk food, but at least they cook with fresh ingredients," he said. "And their fries are to die for."

They headed down to the elevator to get back in the car and make the drive across town to Five Guys. "This is a nicer motel than I'd expected," Finn said, looking up at the glass and steel of the building.

"Well, it's kind of a splurge," Kurt admitted, "but I figured it was worth it if we didn't have to drive to the club. Plus they have fold out couches, so that takes care of needing three beds without having to get a cot."

"Does he always think of everything?" Puck asked Finn.

"Pretty much," said Finn, grinning. "Well, dinner's on me, then, okay?"

"You don't have to do that, Finn," said Kurt, getting into the Range Rover. "I told you I'd pay for this. It's my dream, not yours. You're just going along with it."

Finn shrugged, fastening his seatbelt. "It wouldn't feel right, not helping out somehow. Come on, let me buy dinner. It's just burgers."

"You can buy Puck's, but I'm buying mine," said Kurt. "Don't try to out-stubborn a diva, Finn. You'll end up pissed off and no further ahead than you started." He pulled out into traffic, carefully watching for the turn.

"I learned that with Rachel," said Finn, smirking. "Well, okay, then, Puck, I guess you're my date."

"Hey, I'm not going to complain about free food," said Puck, but it was a strange feeling that ran through him at the word _date_ coming from Finn's mouth, applied to him. He wanted to talk about it, but at the same time he really didn't, so it was probably just as well that Finn took that opportunity to call his mom and let them know where they'd be staying.

"We're in one piece," Finn said, looking around the car. "It was a great drive. Yeah. Puck played his guitar in the back seat. Awesome." He grinned at Puck and Puck mimed a bow, complete with hat flourish. "Puck says hi."

Puck left Finn to his conversation and leaned forward to hang on the back of Kurt's seat. "Are you excited about tonight?"

"I'm trying not to be completely nervous," admitted Kurt. "But I also don't want to make it into more than it is, you know? My expectations can get out of control sometimes. On one hand, it's just a dance club. On the other, it's my first ever dance club, and that's never going to happen again. I have all kinds of fears. What if it's horrible? What if I trip and make a fool of myself? What if nobody, or worse, only skanky guys want to dance with me?"

"You'll fit right in," Puck said. "Don't worry."

Kurt cocked his head, glancing at him in the mirror. "It almost sounds like you've been there before."

Puck took a breath, and nodded. "Yeah, a couple times."

"Hmm." Kurt didn't say any more, but he gave Puck a few more appraising glances on the drive over to dinner.

Five Guys was busy, but not packed, and Puck grabbed a table and munched on peanuts while Finn and Kurt stood in line to place their order. Finn got them each two burgers, his with mushrooms, Puck's with bacon and cheese, and a massive pile of fries. Kurt got fries and a veggie dog. "I only eat meat a couple times a year," he said, bringing his order over to the table, "and I don't want to waste it here. Plus I can't imagine eating too much right now – I'm too wound up."

"Kurt, it's just a dance club," said Finn through a mouthful of burger. "You're a fantastic dancer. I don't get what's the big deal."

Kurt eyed Puck and nibbled on his veggie dog, and said nothing.

Puck played with his fries. Then he said, not looking at Finn, "Sometimes when you're good at something, it's a bigger risk to do it for other people. Like you really need it to be… I don't know. Special. Worthwhile. You want them to appreciate it more, because you're giving more of yourself."

Kurt's eyes grew round, but he stayed silent, taking a sip of water.

Puck made a log cabin with his fries, stacking them every which way. "That's why you wanted to come by yourself, isn't it, Kurt? Because the risk is less when you're performing for a faceless, nameless crowd, but it's more when you are doing it for… a friend." He put a little pickle roof on the cabin. "Or your brother."

Kurt looked away. "… Yeah," he said, and it came out in one long wobbly sigh.

Finn looked perplexed, but he thought about this while he ate his sandwich. "Kurt, you do know how much I admire you, right? How much I wish I could dance like you?"

Kurt looked at the floor. His face was flushed. He made the hair-brushing gesture, realized he was doing it, and let his hand fall uselessly to his lap. Finn went on.

"You single-handedly transformed our football team from a bunch of useless losers into a winning _team._ Dancing made us work together in a way we hadn't done before."

Kurt shook his head. "Finn, that wasn't me. That was you. The team wouldn't have followed me, but they listened to you." He drew thoughtful lines in his ketchup with a fry. "The dancing was, like, a tool. You used it to help the team work better."

"Like the singing did for us today," Finn said, nodding. He smiled sideways at Kurt. "We're a good team, huh? You and me."

Kurt's face broke into an amazed, grateful smile. "I never thought I'd have a brother, Finn," he said, his voice trembling. "I can't imagine being without one, now."

Puck watched them through lowered lids until he was too restless to sit still. Then he got up and walked toward the bathroom, using calm, measured steps, not stalking or stomping or doing any kind of diva storm-out at all. Once he was out of sight of the Hudson-Hummel table, he leaned his head against the wall and blew out a short, frustrated breath.

It wasn't that he didn't want Kurt and Finn to have… what they had. He knew how much it meant to have a brother. Stupid words, like _treasured _and _irreplaceable, _were mixed forever with years of memories of he and Finn playing soccer, Finn and him trading baseball cards, the two of them riding bikes and lip-syncing to MTV and eating dinner at each other's homes.

And now, since the thing with Quinn – no, he wouldn't call it that, it wasn't the _thing, _it was the _baby,_ his daughter, Beth – ever since Finn had found out that Beth was his, even after Finn had accepted his weak apology, they'd never really gotten that brother vibe back again. Puck had taken this weekend job here in Dayton, and the money had been so good, and his mom and sister needed it so much, he couldn't justify not doing it, even when it meant lying to his friends and never getting to hang out with them on the weekend anymore. He hadn't realized until just now how much he'd missed that.

And then Finn's family had moved in with the Hummels, and Finn had a new brother. He didn't need his old one anymore. Maybe he'd never really needed him to begin with. Puck closed his eyes tight against the thought, feeling something in his chest breaking into fragments. He wiped his eyes angrily with one sleeve.

He was angry with himself for being so goddamned needy that he would begrudge Finn and Kurt their friendship. He was angry that he'd kept this thing he'd done, this Jason thing, from the one person who actually meant something to him. He was fucking _pissed_ that he might have lost that person forever, over one stupid night with a girl who wasn't even that important. When he compared what he'd had with Quinn to what he'd had with...

_What had Kurt said?_ he thought. _It's enough to make you want to give up girls altogether._ He shook his head at himself, laughing without humor.

"Puck?" Kurt's soft, light voice broke him from his reverie. He looked up to see Kurt standing close, watching Puck's face carefully, as though he were approaching an animal that might or might not be wild.

"Yeah," Puck said flatly. He didn't bother to put up any crap defenses. Kurt would have seen through them all anyway. He just looked at him and let it all show, the anger and pain and other things he didn't have a name for.

He wasn't sure how much he saw, but it made Kurt catch his breath. He let out a soft noise of empathy and reached out to touch Puck, but Puck shook his head and crossed his arms around himself, warding Kurt away.

Kurt didn't press him. He just sighed, nodded, and backed away, the gesture looking like a courtly dance in his stylish shoes.

Puck stood there for another minute and a half, breathing, rebuilding his walls, recreating the persona that would stand for him. _Until Jason took over,_ he thought. _If he let him. He's not supposed to be in Dayton on Friday nights. _He wasn't sure if he even knew how to be Puck at the club, after so many weekends of Jason.

When he went back to the table, he was his own smooth, badass self, and there was no hint of anything other than good humor and his usual vague lewdness that served to keep people at a comfortable distance. "All right, you guys," he said. "We'd better get going if we want to be at the doors when they open at 9."

Kurt didn't say anything as they threw away their trash and headed for the door, but he looked at Puck with concern. Puck just shrugged, and Kurt had no choice but to go along with it. Finn didn't seem to notice anything was wrong, but then, Finn almost never did. Puck buried that with all the other confusing, complicated feelings and told himself he'd look at it another time.


	5. Chapter 5

"Kurt, get the hell out of the bathroom," Puck said for the fourth time, banging on the door. "The rest of us have bowels too, you know."

"I'm not pooping," Kurt yelled back testily. "I'm primping."

"What the fuck, man," Puck muttered, and popped the cap off another lukewarm beer. "Does he do this at home?"

"Every day," Finn nodded, accepting the beer. "You should see his moisturizing routine at night. It's pretty extensive."

"Even my sister doesn't get like this, and she's an eleven-year-old girl. He's got a serious makeup fetish."

Finn took a long pull on his beer and shook his head. "Nah, it's not that. He's just nervous. This is his way to psyche himself up."

"Like your karate moves in the mirror," Puck said, and Finn reddened. "Come on, man, I've seen you before. It's cool. You're like a freakishly tall Jackie Chan."

"Yeah? What do you do to calm down when you're nervous?" Finn still looked embarrassed, but he came to sit beside Puck on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.

Puck grinned. "I stick with picturing people in their underwear. That works great on so many levels. I get more relaxed, plus I have a great imagination – and, trust me, I've seen a lot of sexy underwear. It's like a free peep show."

"Yeah, I guess, if you're into that kind of thong… er, thing," said Finn, and Puck spent the next thirty seconds cleaning up the beer he'd snorted through his nose.

"Fuck," he gasped. "You're not supposed to have a sense of humor, Hudson."

"What can I say?" Finn shrugged. "I must have left it in my good pants, and here it is."

Puck eyed Finn's khakis. "Those are the _good_ pants?"

"I'll have you know these are perfectly clean and respectable pants," Finn protested, offering Puck the last of the beer.

"Yeah, if your _mother_ picks out your wardrobe," Puck scoffed.

Finn poked at Puck's jeans with a finger (Diesel, but who was looking, right?). "You think I need a pair of hundred dollar jeans to look cool?" he said, but he sighed despite himself.

"Come on, man, I was just kidding," Puck said, putting a hand on Finn's back. "You look fine. It's just a club. There'll be plenty of guys wearing ripped jeans and t-shirts too." He snorted. "And everything else. You'll see. Last week this guy came in wearing nothing but leather shorts and a collar."

"Last… week?" Finn said, slowly.

"Um." Puck finished his beer and wiped his mouth. "Yeah, about that. I meant to tell you –"

"Okay, gentlemen, I'm ready to party," interrupted Kurt, reaching between then to turn off the lamp. "Who's next? Come on, it's after nine. I don't want to miss one more minute of this."

"They're open until 5am, Kurt," said Puck, grabbing his bag and heading for the bathroom. "Nobody can dance for eight hours straight."

"Unfortunate phrasing, Puckerman," called Kurt at the closed door. "The last time I did anything _straight_, I made out with Brittany in a flannel shirt. That was a disaster I don't plan to repeat."

Finn wrinkled his brow in consternation. "Kurt, did you know Puck had been to this club before?"

"He might have mentioned that," Kurt allowed. He twisted the lid off a wine cooler and took a cautious sip. "For the love of Gaga, I don't know how they manage to make these things taste so sweet and so disgusting at the same time."

Finn thought for a minute. "So, like what does that _mean?"_

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know, Finn. Maybe he likes to dance."

"Well, I knew _that._ Puck took dance lessons starting in fourth grade."

Kurt stared at Finn, then took a long drink. "You're kidding me. _Dance lessons?_"

"Yeah, it was a huge deal for a while. Jazz and ballet, then modern, mostly. I mean, you saw him dance with Mercedes when he did _Lady is a Tramp._ He did competitions and everything, he and Mike Chang. He was like, a progidy or something."

"Prodigy," Kurt corrected absently, rolling the lip of the wine bottle along one finger. "Huh. No kidding. So what happened?"

"I don't know, he lost interest, I guess. I think once he got to high school, basketball and football kind of got in the way. We both got into JV freshman year, you know."

Kurt nodded, still thinking. "I wonder why he never dances in Glee."

Finn gathered up the empty bottles and dumped them in the recycling bin. "He's always had a thing about keeping it separate from school. Some guys used to tease him about dancing; you know, calling him Twinkletoes and stupid stuff." He shook his head. "One time in seventh grade there was a competition, Starpower something, and he got into the solo finals. We drove all the way to Colombus for the weekend. There was an article about him in the newspaper, and the next day at school someone had spraypainted… um, something rude on his locker." He glanced at Kurt. "You know, a word describing who he likes to, um. Sleep with."

"I have heard the words before, Finn," Kurt assured him. "Many times."

"Yeah, well, after what happened with you and me and Dad, I don't want to make any more mistakes."

Kurt broke into a smile. "You called him Dad," he said, and Finn laughed.

"You won't bug Puck about the dance stuff, will you? I don't want him to freak out."

"Somehow I don't think Puck will be the one freaking out tonight," said Kurt.


	6. Chapter 6

(Author's note: club dance mix coming next chapter! Also, check out pictures of the club; just Google "masque dayton" and you'll see what they see.)

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><p>The line was halfway around the block by the time they reached the club, but Kurt didn't seem upset. He danced ahead, up the line, and back again, like an excited puppy. "I feel like I'm entering a sacred chapel or a Madonna concert or something," he effused, clapping his hands together. "How long do we have to wait?"<p>

"They're just getting wristbands on everybody coming in," Puck said, leaning on the brick city wall. "Everybody under 18 gets one color, under 21 another."

Puck saw several regulars mixed in with the excited high school kids. There were a few girls in the crowd, but most of them were boys. Some were in nervous couples, holding hands or with a cautious arm around each other. _This was probably the only place they'd ever been able to be themselves,_ Puck thought, and looked at Kurt. _It was too bad Blaine was out of town. Kurt deserved that, too._

A drag queen wearing four-inch neon pink platform heels and a miniskirt that rivaled Santana's shortest sauntered up the line, passing out glow bracelets to enthusiastic patrons. "You can never be too bright or too beautiful," she cooed to Kurt, who happily accepted a blue bracelet. She looked Finn up and down and nodded appreciatively, her earrings bobbing. "Mmm, I love a boy tall enough for me to look in the eye – and you are one fine boy."

"Uh, thanks," he said, grinning uncertainly, and took a red bracelet.

"How about some fairy dust for you and your friends?" She took out a sprinkle container of glitter and waved it around, leaving a trail of sparkles in its wake. Kurt darted under the shower of sparkles and caught them in his hair, laughing. The drag queen turned to Puck.

"And you – hey, Jason!" She cocked her head, putting a manicured finger on his chest. "I didn't recognize you in this get-up. Is this work or play?"

"Play," he said, with a smile, ignoring the puzzled look from Finn and the speculative one from Kurt. "Wanda, these are my friends from home. We, uh, went to high school together."

"Charmed," simpered Wanda, holding out a hand to Kurt, who held it with delight and gave her a little bow. "Any friend of Jason's. Enjoy your night."

"Thanks," said Kurt, eyes bright. He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Puck, who sighed and took out his fake ID.

"Jason," he said, handing it to Kurt. Kurt accepted the card, looked at it, looked back at Puck, and nodded thoughtfully. He passed it to Finn, who was frowning and looking after Wanda.

"Okay," Finn said slowly. "I get it. But how –" He stopped.

"Jason!" squealed a voice, and suddenly Puck was being hugged by a tan, blonde boy in tight denim shorts, a blue tank top and cowboy boots. His biceps flexed as he held on to Puck's arm and flashed him a dazzling white smile. "Hi," he said to Finn and Kurt, clearly as an afterthought, then turned back to Puck. "God, you look so respectable!"

"I know, right?" Puck said, laughing. "Could I pass for college bound?"

The boy held him out at arm's length and checked him out, nodding. "Possibly," he said. "Business or pre-law, if you put on a tie."

"I wonder what kind of tips _that _would get me," Puck pondered, stroking the front of his shirt.

"Mmmm," said the boy, pursing his lips. "Probably not the type of johns you really want as regulars. They might try to take you home to Mommy."

"Or Daddy," Puck said, slyly, and the boy shrieked with laughter. He slipped an arm around Puck's waist. Finn looked at Kurt and cleared his throat uncomfortably, but the boy ignored him.

"So what are you doing here on your night off?" he asked. "Seems like you get enough of this place without coming back for more."

"These are some friends from high school," Puck said easily, not meeting Finn's eyes. "Finn, Kurt, this is David. He dances here on weekends and bartends during the week."

"Hi," said Kurt, holding out a hand, and David took it, holding it a fraction of a second longer than was appropriate. Kurt's smile widened, and David glanced up at Finn, considering.

"They're brothers," Puck said softly, and then, as David's eyes returned to rest on Kurt, added, "and underage."

"Doesn't hurt to look," pouted David. He rustled his hand in the apron he wore around his waist and pulled out a few slips of paper and some pens. "Here, you guys can sign up for the raffle. We're giving away some killer door prizes. Just write your first name and Jason's name – that'll be good enough."

"Thanks," said Kurt, accepting a slip and a pen. As he leaned on the side of the building to write his name, David blatantly checked out his ass. Finn coughed and moved in to stand in his line of sight, reaching out to grab a pen from David's hand. David met Finn's eyes in a challenge, but Finn stayed where he was, and after one more tense moment, David acquiesced.

After taking the slips from the three boys, David touched Kurt's arm. "Save me a dance, okay?"

Kurt watched him walk away with a delighted smile. He looked up at Finn, who shook his head at Kurt. "What?"

"You'd better watch out tonight," said Puck. "You're a TT. Tasty treat," he clarified, at Kurt's unspoken query. "And there's a lot of guys who'd like you for a snack."

"I don't plan on cheating on Blaine," Kurt said airily. "But, like he said, it doesn't hurt to look. Or dance."

"Or get groped by over-friendly twink fans?" Puck looked pointedly at Kurt, who shrugged, grinning.

"Twink?" said Finn, the first word he'd uttered in several minutes.

"Little nutritional value, sweet to the taste and cream-filled," Puck said obligingly, and Kurt smothered a shocked laugh. Finn turned red and looked at the sidewalk. "No offense to you, Kurt. It's a common term for certain young gay guys."

"Kurt… I told Dad I'd watch out for you," Finn said. "I don't really think he'd want you to fool around with some… dancer." Puck flinched at the way Finn said _dancer,_ like he might say _racist _or _dog shit._

Kurt looked at Puck as they shuffled forward in line. "He wouldn't do anything… inappropriate, would he?"

"David's a little grabby, but he'd listen to no, especially from a kid who could lose him his job," Puck said. "You're safe with him."

"You know him pretty well?" Finn asked coolly.

Puck steeled himself and met Finn's eyes. They were wary, and Puck could see hurt and confusion there. It made something in his chest ache. He held Finn's gaze long enough to reply, "We've worked together for almost a year. He's all right."

Now they were in the dim foyer, defining the space between the public sidewalk and the private club. Puck's ears were saturated by the familiar throbbing bass beat of house music. "IDs," grunted the bouncer, stamping their hands with UV-sensitive ink. "Hey, Jason."

Finn pulled his ID from his back pocket and passed it to the bouncer without taking his focus away from Puck. "And what… _exactly…_ have you been doing here for the past year?" he said, loud enough to be heard over the music, but in a carefully controlled voice that Puck knew meant Finn was close to losing it.

"Finn," Kurt said.

"Because yesterday I was sure you'd never been to this club before," continued Finn, accepting the green band marked UNDER 18 the bouncer fastened around his wrist. "But now it seems pretty clear you have been here. A lot."

"Finn," Kurt said again.

"_And,"_ Finn said, his tone strained, "everyone seems to know who you are. Or at least, they know who you _say_ you are. But this Jason guy… he sure doesn't sound, or look, or act, or even have the same name as the guy I _thought_ was my best friend."

"Finn!" Kurt said for the third time.

"What?" Finn snapped, looking at him at last. Kurt was standing next to a poster with a figure of a shirtless dancer artfully astride a pole, head thrown back, face in shadow. He jerked a thumb at the picture with an exasperated expression.

Finn's eyes widened as he took in Puck's image on the poster, then narrowed again as he turned back to Puck. His face was bewildered, almost wild with betrayal.

"Who the fuck _are you?"_ Finn hissed, throwing up his hands.

Puck swallowed and took a breath. "Finn."

Finn shook his head, lowering his hands slowly, and backed away from Puck, then stormed off into the club. Kurt watched him go with wide eyes. Puck shook his head.

"He gonna be a problem, Jason?" asked the bouncer.

"No," Puck sighed. "That went about how I expected." He looked at Kurt. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't want to wreck your night."

Kurt's face shifted from regret to resolve. "It's okay. I'm not going to let Finn's bad mood get in my way." He glanced at Puck and bounced on his toes. "So… Jason… you want to dance?"

Puck considered Kurt for a moment, then grinned. "C'mon. Let me get you a drink."


	7. Chapter 7

(Author's note: woo-hoo, check out the club dance mix! These are remixes of all the songs they dance to - well, almost all of them. I had to keep some surprises. http:/ www. mediafire. com/?1w3ubelucre69yp Hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the comments - as Kurt says, they're like crack to me. -amy)

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><p>The club was packed with moving, swaying bodies. Every corner was filled with color, neon and shimmering. A stage on one wall was framed by round lights; it waited, empty, a promise of things to come. Other walls held lights and multiple screens. Leather couches ringed the outside; there were metal sculptures shaped like martini glasses, and the bar in the center beckoned.<p>

"Hey, Andy," he said, leaning on the bar. "Could I get a Safe Sex on the Beach and a whiskey sour?"

"Nice to see you on your day off, Jason," Andy said. "You like it shaken, right?"

"Thanks," he said, nodding. "Some friends dragged me down from Lima."

"Well, you picked a hell of a day to come," Andy said, shaking his drink with crushed ice and straining it into a glass. "It's twink city, otherwise known as teen night. Lots of tasty treats. You gonna light up the pole tonight?"

"Depends," he said. _On how drunk I get, probably._ He dug a few singles out of his left pocket and dropped them on the bar, gathering the drinks. "Keep a tab for me, would you?"

"You bet," Andy nodded, pocketing the singles.

He wandered slowly back to the couch where Kurt was waiting, waving and smiling at familiar faces along the way, and handed Kurt his virgin cocktail with a flourish. Kurt took a sip. "Yum," he said, above the sound of the music. "Thank you… Jason."

"My pleasure," he said, sitting close to Kurt and smiling. He took a long swallow of his own drink. "Don't worry, there's nothing alcoholic in there. I wouldn't contribute to the delinquency of a minor."

Kurt chuckled. "Um, you mean aside from the wine cooler you bought me earlier?"

He paused, then laughed, leaning back and throwing an arm along the back of the couch. "You know, I'd forgotten about that."

"Honestly, I've never needed alcohol to have a good time," Kurt assured him, then paused and turned crimson. "Oh – I didn't mean – I mean, I wasn't –"

But Jason was grinning. He used the hand around Kurt to trail a finger down the edge of the shoulder of his jacket. "Hmmm… pink's a good color on you, honey."

Kurt put a hand to his mouth, then cleared his throat. He shifted a fraction away from Jason on the couch. "So, uh. You dance here?"

"Every Saturday night," Jason nodded. "I do three shows, at 11, midnight and 1, and between them I'm helping out behind the bar, on the floor, wherever they need me."

"You said you started about a year ago?" Kurt asked. Jason nodded again. "Nobody's said anything about you being underage?"

His eyes gleamed, and he let them slip innocently to the floor. "You must be mistaken," he said, looking up through his lashes at Kurt. "I'm 22." Kurt laughed nervously. Jason rested his hand on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt stared at it a moment before resolutely ignoring it and returning his attention to his drink.

"It's been a long time since I came to the club for something other than work," Jason said. "What do you think so far?"

"It's great," Kurt said, regaining some of his earlier enthusiasm. He looked around at the writhing mass of teenagers on the dance floor. "You know, I've never seen so many gay kids all in one place. It's, just, nice not to be in the minority for a change."

"You deserve it." Jason squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "Everybody needs a place they can be themselves."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. He bit his lip. "Is… this a place like that for you?"

"Well, you know." He shrugged vaguely and drained the last of his drink. "Work is work. But I know how to have fun, too." He tugged on the collar of Kurt's tailored jacket. "You ready to head out there and tear up the floor?"

"Yeah," Kurt said again, setting his drink down. He leaned in to Jason and said in his ear, "Finn is over by the pool tables. Did you, um, want to talk to him?"

Jason sighed and stood, putting a hand on one hip. "Hey, he's the one who's acting like a spoiled brat. I figure he's going to need some time to cool down. I don't see any point in wasting our time until he's ready to talk." He held out the other hand to Kurt, smiling. "In the meantime, you and I are going to rock this joint."

Kurt's smile was hesitant, but he took Jason's hand and allowed himself to be led out onto the dance floor, just as the familiar tones of a Lady Gaga remix came over the speakers. "It's Judas," he squealed, and Jason laughed, watching Kurt throw himself into the dancing mob with unfeigned enthusiasm. Jason put up his arms and let himself be carried away by the pounding beat.

_• I wanna love you • but something's pulling me away from you • Jesus is my virtue • Judas is the demon I cling to, I cling to • _

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><p>Finn angrily crunched on a cube of ice and stared, unseeing, at the wall behind the pool tables. <em>I can't believe I let Kurt talk me into coming down here,<em> he thought. _I can't believe I'm in a stupid gay dance club. I can't believe… I can't… _ He pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose, his thoughts reeling.

"You gonna rack 'em or just stand there all night, kid?" Finn looked over to see a man standing there with a pool cue in one hand and a beer in the other. He looked ordinary, about Mr. Schue's age but going a little grey, dressed in a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, not unlike the clothes Finn had been wearing before Kurt and his mom had made him change. Finn shook his head.

"No?" said the man.

"No – I mean, sure. Yeah." Finn sighed and took a pool cue off the rack on the wall. "Sorry. I was just thinking – you look like just a regular dude. I mean, you're not dressed up."

"Uh-huh," said the man, obviously amused. He chalked his cue and handed the chalk to Finn. "What, you think all gay guys have to look like – that?" He pointed with his cue to the dance floor, where one boy in silver lamé was grinding up against another one in leather vest and chaps. Finn shook his head again, helplessly.

"So… you're gay?" Finn eyed him as he dropped a few quarters into the pool table to release the balls. The man smiled.

"Yep. I'm Graham." He held out his hand, and Finn shook it. "And I'm assuming you're not. Gay, that is."

"Right. I'm here with… a friend, and my brother. He's, um, gay. He's out there somewhere – hey, there he is." He pointed at Kurt, who had shed his blazer and was dancing his little heart out in his black mesh shirt to Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night (TGIF)." The glitter in his hair shimmered in the lights that played over the dance floor. He looked like he was having the time of his life. Finn smiled, relieved to see that he hadn't completely destroyed Kurt's dream evening.

Then he noticed who was dancing with him, and he stopped breathing for a moment and stared. The figure was wearing a familiar grey pinstriped shirt and black jeans, and his head was shaved into a Mohawk, but that's where the similarity ended between Puck and this boy – Jason. His face, usually so controlled and sardonic, was shining with an ecstatic smile. His body moved with grace and dynamic excitement that cast Mike Chang's smooth moves in the shade. Even under his clothes, Finn could see the strength and power in Jason's arms, his back, his legs. He wondered how he could have missed seeing this at football or Glee practice – but at the same time, he knew he and Puck had barely been friends this past year, at least not the way they'd been in the past, and that it would have been easy to miss. Finn felt a pang of regret.

Jason was clearly the life of the party, surrounded by other patrons, each of whom stepped in to touch and grind against him, then ringed him with smiles and approving eyes as they danced nearby. He seemed completely comfortable with the sexual energy present in the club, throwing an arm around one boy, gripping the hips of another. But it was his comfort with himself that was so striking. Finn watched Jason attempt some complicated footwork, trip and completely fall over laughing, catching himself against a tall sandy-haired boy, who didn't seem to mind at all.

"Hmm... I thought you said you weren't gay."

"What?" Finn turned back to Graham, who had racked the balls on the pool table and was waiting patiently. He realized he'd been staring at Jason for over a minute, and he shook his head, furrowing his brow. "No, it's – it's my friend, P- Jason."

"Jason? _He's_ your friend?" Graham whistled.

"I thought he was," Finn said dully. He sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. "This is… really confusing."

"First crushes always are," said Graham. He set the cue ball down, lined up the shot, and broke the rack.

Finn looked up. "Wait, what? No, that's not what I meant."

Graham nodded with a matter-of-fact smile. "Yeah, I think it was. It's pretty clear the way you looked at him. Jealous?"

Finn struggled to explain. "We've been friends since we were kids… he's really important to me, but he's not gay. I mean, I'm not gay either."

Graham laughed. "Everybody's gay for Jason." Then he stopped and looked at Finn, speculatively. "Hey, _you're _the friend from home? The one who…? Hmm."

"What are you talking about?" Finn said in a voice that bordered on whining. "God, why does everybody know more than _I_ do about my best friend?"

"Hey, kid." Graham's voice was warm and kind. He took Finn's hand and put the beer into it. "You clearly need this."

"I'm underage," Finn said, holding up his wristband.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you." He pulled up a chair next to Finn and watched him drink the beer. "See, ever since Jason came to work here, everybody's been trying to get into his Levis." Finn felt his face heat up, but Graham went on. "But he told all the guys that hit on him that there was someone in his past, a boyhood friend, who was the only guy he ever wanted. He's happy to dance, hang out with the other guys, but it's clear this guy was someone special." Graham shrugged. "He's saving himself for Prince Charming. Maybe that's you?"

Finn felt like his brain was about to lift out of his skull and take off for unknown climes. He leaned back against the wall and put a miserable hand on top of his head, trying to keep everything together. Graham watched him for a moment, then clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder and gestured toward the pool table.

"Come on. Forget about it. You need to relax, kid. Finish your beer. Let's play some pool. Then maybe we can get you out on the dance floor."

Finn shook his head, feeling dazed. "Dude, you _really_ don't want me to dance. I tend to break things."

"Maybe if I get enough beer into you, it won't matter so much," Graham said, smiling. "C'mon, see if you can make this shot while I get us some more cold ones. I'm a terrible pool player. You can probably beat me if you focus."

_• Last Friday night • yeah we danced on tabletops • and we took too many shots • think we kissed but I forgot • _


	8. Chapter 8

Finn did beat Graham at the first game of pool, and the second. They were well on their way through the third when he started to feel the effects of the beer. "You're never going to make that shot," Graham said, watching Finn lean over the pool table and sight along his cue.

Finn grinned. "Wanna bet?"

"Mmm, getting cocky, kid? I guess two beers'll do that to you." He stroked his salt-and-pepper stubbled chin, considering. "Okay. A bet. You sink this one, and I'll… what'll I do?"

"Buy me another beer," Finn prompted.

"Sure," he agreed. "And if you miss it…" Graham indicated the dance floor. "You go out there and dance."

Finn's eyes wandered to the mass of bodies in the next room, moving in rhythm to LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem." The lights snaked over the crowd and made a hypnotic pattern in the dim light. He fixed on two boys on the edge of the floor, standing close to one another, their thighs overlapping, eyes locked, hips rotating in an unending spiral. He blinked. "All right," he said.

Finn turned back to the table and lined up the shot again. He held his breath, slid the cue back and forth along the webbing of his thumb. _Eyes locked, hips rotating._ He shook his head to clear it, tried to focus. Graham chuckled.

"Hey, no distractions," Finn grumbled.

"I think you're doing a fine job distracting yourself," he said. "I'm just standing over here."

Finn didn't answer that. "What's in it for you, anyway?" he said. "Why do you care so much about getting me to dance?"

Graham chalked his cue. "I've been coming to this club a long time," he said, "and seen a lot of young – okay, and not so young – guys deal with their fears about dancing. But you came for a reason, and I don't think it was to play pool."

"It was for my brother," Finn said.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have come at all if it hadn't been partly for you, too." Graham gestured at the dance floor. "Those guys, they all know the reason why we keep coming back week after week. Being part of something, a group like this, it changes you. It connects you with others, when you dance together. It doesn't matter how good you are, or how sexy you are, or even if you know anyone in the club. For just a night, for an hour, for a moment, everyone belongs."

"Something happens when you sing together," Finn said softly to himself. "And… when you dance."

He looked over at Graham. "I'm in the Glee club at school, and we sing and dance together. Jason – he is, I mean, he _was_ in the club when he was in school, and Kurt, my brother, he's in it, too. It's… well, it's pretty awesome." Finn laughed. "One time Kurt taught the football team to dance, to help bring us together, be more of a team, so I get what you're talking about. We did Beyoncé's Single Ladies on the field, right in the middle of the game, and another time we did the whole Thriller routine for the halftime show."

"No kidding. So you're on the football team, too?" Graham shook his head admiringly.

"And P-Jason. We were in football together."

"_Jason_ was on the _football _team?" Graham's eyes bugged out, and he nearly dropped his pool cue. "Holy shit. My mind has been blown. What position did he play?"

Finn flushed and looked at the ground, muttering something. "What was that?" he asked.

"Tight end," Finn repeated, and Graham busted up laughing. Finn looked at him a minute, and then grinned, then finally laughed, too.

"Let me guess," Graham said. "You play… forward tackle?"

"Um, quarterback," Finn said, and Graham started laughing all over again. He leaned over the edge of the pool table and supported himself on his hands, gasping for breath.

"God," he said, wiping his eyes. "We are _not_ going to tell the rest of the staff about that. I think they already have enough Jason fantasy material to last the entire summer." He gestured to the table. "Come on, get this shot over with. You're stalling."

Finn looked out across the dance floor, then set his cue down. "You know what? I don't need a bet, or another beer, to get out there. I'm ready." He took a deep breath. "Let's go."

"That's it, kid," he said, smiling approvingly. "Go join your tribe."

Finn paused. "You're – not coming?"

Graham chuckled. "Hmmm, yeah… the old guy following the liquored-up jailbait out onto the floor. I don't think that would go over so well with my partner. He owns the club." He gave a little wave. "I'd better cheer you on from here."

"Thanks, man." Finn stuck out his hand, and Graham, surprised, shook it. "I appreciate your help, talking to me about Jason, and encouraging me to dance and stuff. And it was fun, the beers, and playing pool."

"Hey, you still owe me that last shot," he said, clearly pleased. "Come find me later and we'll finish our game."

• _party rock is in the house tonight • everybody just have a good time • and we gonna make you lose your mind • everybody just have a good time •_

* * *

><p>Finn was surprised to find he wasn't the tallest guy on the floor. Usually in Glee they had to do some strategic choreography so that Finn didn't stick out of the middle of the group. At prom, he'd mostly danced with Quinn, so he hadn't felt quite so exposed. But even though he was accustomed to always being a head taller than everyone else around him, there wasn't anything quite like dancing that made him feel like a sore thumb. Maybe it was that he never knew what to do with his hands, or that when he was going up everyone else seemed to be going down, but it always gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach.<p>

But here, there were a couple guys, and a few drag queens, who were as tall or taller than he was, and several more who were nearly as tall. Finn wondered if the reason was just that there were proportionally more guys here, compared to a regular dance club. But pretty soon the house beat had infiltrated his brain and he stopped thinking, just tried to move with that all-encompassing beat as best he could and not worry about what other people might be thinking about him.

Every now and then he'd get into a groove that felt good, one that made him feel kind of proud of his dancing, like maybe he might actually not be making a total fool of himself. He was used to gauging his success by his girlfriend's positive or negative responses to his actions, but dancing here by himself – or, rather, dancing with _everyone at once –_ was a completely different experience.

Nobody was directly facing him, but he felt like they were including him anyway. Nobody was making him feel uncomfortable, but he sensed an acceptance of his body, an appreciation for his movement, like what he was doing was somehow _helping_ to make things better for everyone. The closest feeling he'd had to that before was doing the choreography in Glee, but even then, he'd often felt Mr. Schue and half the group would have preferred he just sat on the side and watched. Here in the dance club, it was like everyone was helping without even having talked about it before, like they were all reading one another's minds. Even better, there was no question that he was adding to, rather than detracting from, the group effort. It was the most freeing sensation. Finn felt, for the first time, that he could really do no wrong, and a smile spread across his face.

He began to make eye contact with some of the guys around him before he realized how that might be interpreted. He was just looking for some feedback: _how am I doing? not too shabby?_ And he got it. One tall boy with dark eyes and impressive biceps gave him a shy smile in return and moved in to dance close behind him, doing that grinding thing that everybody else seemed to be doing, and Finn, amazed with himself, ground right back.

"You here alone?" the boy asked in his ear, and Finn shivered.

"Uh, no," he said, loud enough to be heard. "Sorry."

The boy didn't seem upset, and also didn't stop dancing with him for another few terrifying, incredible moments, before moving on with a grin.

Finn realized with a guilty start that he'd promised to keep an eye on Kurt, but here he was, leaving him alone on the dance floor, where anybody could… grind against him… while Finn was off drinking and playing pool and… grinding with some strange guy. _I'm not freaking out, am I? _He took a deep breath or two, and found he was not.

But he did move around the floor until he was near enough to Kurt to watch him. Kurt was still going strong, with that irrepressible energy he'd always had, jumping on his toes, moving his shoulders and neck with style and attitude. He had a very light sheen of perspiration on his pale arms, but then, most everyone did by now, even though they'd been keeping the club comfortably cool. Kurt didn't seem bothered by it. Finn was glad; he knew Kurt hated to look sweaty.

And there was Jason, looking entirely at home on the floor, miraculously _un_sweaty, with his hands on a buff, shirtless guy's rib cage. Finn wasn't sure he could handle watching that, but he stayed within eyesight of Kurt.

The music shifted to a remix of Black Guys' "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend," and Finn saw Kurt blanch and stumble a little. He watched him move off to the side of the floor, pick up a glass from a table, and pause for a drink. Then he wandered off in the direction of the bathroom, his face troubled. With remarkable regret, Finn stopped dancing and followed him.

Kurt was leaning on the wall in the space between _Men_ and _Unisex._ "Hey," he said, touching his shoulder. "You okay?"

Kurt looked up at Finn, surprised. "Hi! I should ask you the same thing."

"Yeah, I'm – I'm sorry about that earlier. That was rude of me. I'm glad I didn't wreck your night. You don't look so good."

Kurt sighed, exasperated. "Yeah… it's the music. Blaine sang that song at prom, remember? And god, it just really hit me how much I wish he were here." He wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm and took a deep breath. "But really, I'm having a great time."

"Yeah, me, too," Finn said, and smiled. "This is… fun."

"Finn – for a few minutes, I couldn't believe that was you! I saw you _dancing!"_ He looked… well, _impressed._ "You were fantastic!"

"I don't think I'd go that far," Finn said, blushing. "But you know, I think I felt something I've never felt before tonight, when I was out there."

"Really?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and Finn's blush intensified.

"Not like that," he said, and carefully didn't think about the dark-eyed boy. "It was… like when we were in football, when we were doing our routines on the field. I was part of something. That was pretty awesome."

"Finn –" Kurt bit his lip, eyes crinkling. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that." He hesitated. "I would give you a hug, but it would be so freaking gay. Not to mention moist."

"I think I can handle it," Finn grinned, and hugged him first.

• _you are the girl that I've been dreaming of • ever since I was a little girl • I'm biting my tongue • he's kissing with you • he's got two left feet and he bites my moves • I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you •_


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt's eyes shone as the music shifted again. "Hey – listen, it's Pink. I love this song. Come on – dance with me!"

"Okay," Finn said, wondering if it was the beer or the atmosphere or something else that was making it so easy for him to get back on the dance floor. He looked over at the alcove with the pool tables, but Graham was facing away, talking to somebody else.

"Didn't Blaine sing this song, too?" Finn said, and immediately wished he hadn't, but Kurt didn't seem bothered.

"Yeah, but who can feel bad listening to Raise Your Glass?" Kurt took out his phone and held it up above his head, taking random pictures of the dancing crowd. "I'll text him these in a few minutes. He's so jealous we're here without him."

"Maybe we can come back next month," Finn shouted over the music, and Kurt gave him such a look of delight that he laughed.

• _why so serious? • so raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right ways • all night underdogs • we will never be, never be anything but loud and nitty-gritty • dirty little freaks • just come on and come on and raise your glass • _

Finn began to have a seed of an idea as they danced together. He was so caught up in this idea that he was hardly thinking about what he was doing, just dancing on autopilot, and he backed into someone by mistake. "Oh – sorry, I wasn't –" he said, turning –

And it was Jason, looking up at him with wide eyes. Someone else jostled him and he stepped in, and Jason stumbled right into his chest. Finn put a steadying hand around his back, feeling the tension in his muscles under the soft fabric of his shirt. His mouth felt dry. He licked his lips and swallowed. "Uh… hi."

Jason didn't look away. His hand came up and tentatively brushed Finn's chest, and Finn took an involuntary breath. His eyes flickered down at the open neck of Jason's pinstriped shirt, now unbuttoned down to his sternum, then back to Jason's warm, relaxed face. He had a crazy, almost overwhelming urge to kiss him, right there on the dance floor, but instead he stepped back, putting a few inches between them, and then he could breathe again.

Jason's expression went playful and he spun out away from Finn, then held out a hand. If it had been Puck doing that, it would have been a dare, but from Jason it was an invitation. Finn didn't think, he just took the hand, and let Jason move him into the dance.

Finn was suddenly hyper-aware of Jason's body, his arms, his feet, everywhere he was moving. They swayed, touched, moved apart, touched again, and every time Finn could feel a resonating pulse in his gut. He was mesmerized by Jason's grace and his breathtaking smile, so free, so – _so much who Puck could have been,_ he thought, and he was embarrassed to feel tears come to his eyes. He closed them for a moment, getting himself back together, and raised his eyes to the ceiling, where the lights were dancing on their own.

Then he felt strong hands on his ribs, winding around to encircle him from behind, sliding around his waist. He made a noise in his throat at the sensation of Jason's broad chest against his back. His breath came faster, but he held very still as Jason pressed his hips lightly against Finn from behind, rocking to the beat of the Pink remix.

He felt warm breath on his neck as Jason brought his lips to his ear. "You're a good dancer, Finn," he said.

It was so unexpected that Finn laughed, an explosion of air from his lungs. Jason took it as disagreement. "I mean it," he said, and the words, though precious, were of less import than the sensation of Jason's mouth against his skin. "I'm sorry I ever let you think anything else."

"God," he moaned, feeling overwhelmed, but unable to move away. He watched the dancers around them with detachment, knowing they were watching Jason and this unfamiliar guy, and wondered vaguely what the hell he was doing.

• _so if you're too school for cool and treated like a fool • you can choose to let it go • we can always party on our own •_

Hours - or possibly minutes - later, Jason moved back, away from Finn, and he had enough presence of mind to stay where he was, instead of groping for the return of his chest, his hips. Then he felt Jason's fingers, intertwining with his, and he was being led off the dance floor, to a table in the corner. It was several decibel levels quieter here, quiet enough for them to hear one another if they spoke in a normal voice, but Jason leaned in close anyway. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Finn thought of the two beers he'd had with Graham, and the two back at the room before that. "I think I'd better stick with water," he said.

"Anything you want," Jason said, and Finn quivered.

Jason gestured to the leather couch on one side of the calf-height table, and as Finn sat, he walked over to the bar and spoke with the man behind it, who smiled and lined up two glasses. As he filled them with ice water, two slim young men approached Jason and moved in close on either side. One slipped a hand around his waist. Jason smiled at him and touched his cheek with an intimate expression. Finn felt a surge of anger and nearly rose to his feet, but he controlled himself. _What kind of a claim do you think you have on him?_ he thought to himself. _This is Puck we're talking about._

Jason spoke to the other man and pointed at Finn. They all looked over curiously. Jason waved and grinned. Finn gave a little uncertain wave back. Then his hand dropped to his lap as Jason kissed both men and sent them on their way with a pat on their behinds.

The bartender handed Jason a plastic-wrapped package. Jason thanked him, tucked the package under his arm and brought the two glasses back to the table. He pulled up a chair on the other side and sat down.

"Puck," Finn began.

"Jason," he corrected. "I'm Jason."

"Right. Sorry." He looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile. "Jason."

"I know you probably have lots of questions," Jason said, resting his elbows on his knees. "I just need to tell you something before we begin."

"Uh, okay," Finn said, watching Jason's fingers trace the rim of his water glass.

"I've been working here for about a year." He indicated the club. "Jason… is who I am. Here. Every weekend. When I go home… then I have to be somebody else." He eyed Finn. "I want you to know that whoever _you_ want to be, here, can just be that. Who you are, here. When we go home tomorrow – you can be somebody else again."

Finn felt a flame of possibility kindle in his chest, but he hesitated. "How do you _do_ that?" he said.

"It helps to have an hour and a half drive on the way back," Jason admitted. "I have certain songs I listen to. I change my clothes. Speaking of that…" He kept his eyes on Finn as he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. Finn's mouth went dry. His hand shook as he lifted the glass of water to his lips.

Jason pulled the shirt off his shoulders and let it slide to the floor. "That shirt really belongs to Puck," he said. "I shouldn't have worn it."

"I liked it," said Finn softly, not looking at his bare chest, and Jason giggled.

"Oh, Finn," he said, and his voice was gently teasing. "You're adorable." He tore open the plastic package and took out a black t-shirt. He considered Finn. "I hope the shirt wasn't the only reason you were touching me."

"Uh…" Finn said, and he found himself completely unable to form a reply as he watched Jason pull the tight t-shirt on over his head. It hugged his chest and stomach like a second skin, and Finn let out a shaky breath. There was a Masque logo on the back, and the front read, _I'm not a whore, I'm a professional._

"Now I feel more like Jason," he said, stretching like a lion in the sun, smiling brilliantly at Finn. "So… did you have any other questions for me, or are you ready to go back in there and dance with the hottest guy in the club?"

Finn looked at him with a crooked smile and set down his water on the table. "Sure, if you want to introduce me to him."

"Oh, snap," crowed Jason, standing with Finn and pulling him back out onto the dance floor. "There's that sneak attack Hudson sense of humor again."

Finn caught up to Jason to slide an arm around his waist and rest it on the back pocket of his jeans. "Maybe you're not the only one with a few surprises up your sleeve," he said, smiling at Jason's expression.

"Maybe not," Jason said breathlessly, and twined his other arm around Finn's waist, pulling him closer and falling into the beat of the music.

Finn watched over Jason's shoulder as Kurt noticed them dancing together. He stopped in mid-boogie and put a hand on his chest, like he was having a heart attack, but Finn could see he was smiling. Finn smiled back and shrugged.

He looked at the pool table alcove, then, and saw Graham nearby, watching the dance floor, arms crossed. Finn caught his eye and he nodded approvingly, giving him a thumbs up. Finn looked down at this boy he held in his arms, and thought about what Graham had told him, about Jason's Prince Charming. The fire he'd kindled earlier begin to grow.

"I hope you know what you want," he said to Jason. He allowed himself to run his hands over Jason's powerful back, and Jason smiled.

"I want this night with you," he said, and Finn felt his heart stutter and keep beating. "I want a night with no regrets, where we get to do everything we want to do." He looked up at Finn. "Is there anything you'd wished you could do, but never felt the courage to until now?"

Finn recalled the seed of an idea he'd had earlier, and that, too, began to grow. He grinned. "I can think of a couple of them," he said. "Maybe we can start with this one." He whispered something into Jason's ear, and Jason stopped dancing and laughed.

"That's not only possible – it's absolutely _required!"_ he cried, and tugged Finn along with him to talk with the DJ.

• _I'm hypnotized by the look in your eyes • and I can't break free, no • you pull me in with every look you give • we own the night • dancing's the only thing that keeps us alive •_


	10. Chapter 10

(Author's note: I had a couple requests for the name of the song at the end of the last chapter. It was We Own the Night by Andrea Rosario.)

* * *

><p>When Finn came back to the bar to get a refill on his water, Kurt spotted him and made a beeline for him, a murderous expression on his face. Finn took a deep breath and prepared for the assault.<p>

Kurt poked Finn in the chest and drove him back into the bar. "Finn Hudson-Hummel, you've been holding out on me," he fumed, glaring at Finn. "You and Jason - I can't believe you never – after all that we went through together – I'm just – !"

He made a noise of exasperation, then he threw his arms around Finn and hugged him tight. "Hey, man, two hugs in one night; that's a little too gay even for me," said Finn, but he made it clear with his voice that he was joking, and he hugged Kurt back.

"How are you doing?" Kurt pulled back and looked at him searchingly. "This has got to be so confusing for you. Are you all right? Do you need –"

"I'm – I'm all right," Finn said, holding up his hands. "I'm just – not thinking too hard about it. I'm just – being here. Just trying to be in this moment. I don't want it to – to mean anything about me, or what might happen tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay," said Kurt, uncertainly. "But Finn, you do know that, um, Jason will be _going home_ with us tomorrow. Right?"

"He said he just wants – this night." He felt a surge of anticipation. "With me."

"I see." Kurt's eyebrows drew down in a cute frown. "Well, if that's what you want."

"I think it's all I can handle right now," Finn admitted. Kurt squeezed his hand, then finally nodded acquiescence. "Hey, Kurt… I have something else. Something for you. Well, for me too."

"_You're_ not going to try to hit on me, too, are you?" Kurt said, deadpan. "Because I don't think I have enough Ohio hick in me to go _that_ route."

"No," Finn snorted. "Come on."

He guided Kurt back onto the dance floor, and looked up to where Jason was standing in the booth with the DJ. He gave Jason a nod, and Jason smiled at him through the glass and said something to the DJ. Then he slipped out through the door and made his way back to the floor just as the music began.

Kurt looked up, eyes widening, and then stared at Finn, then Jason. "Ohhhh, no," he said, shaking his head.

"Ohhhh, yes," said Jason, striking a familiar pose, hand on his hip, other hand up in a flourish. Kurt watched him rock back forth with the rhythm, and, with a terrified gulp, joined in.

Finn positioned himself behind Jason and Kurt, because he was sure he'd forgotten all the moves, but as the lyrics to "Single Ladies" came streaming out of the speakers, he could feel his body remember: _hip and two and hip and four, hands up, two three four, shake your hip and knee across and head head head_.

It was easy, easier than he'd expected… easier still when he let his eyes drift to Jason's hips, rocking, bending, effortlessly shaking to the rhythm. Puck had never enjoyed this routine, but he'd begrudgingly gone through with it on the field: _Let's do this, Cap'n_. Jason, on the other hand, seemed to be having a ball.

And the other club patrons were eating it up. They made a loose ring around them, clapping and dancing along, cheering and whistling at each unison move. Finn saw Graham on the side, pointing at the dance floor and laughing with a trim man with a grey goatee. David was there in the front, watching Kurt with a disturbingly hungry expression, particularly every time Kurt slapped his butt. Wanda was rocking to the beat with her manicured hands in the air.

By the time they got to the last _step-point, step-point, point point point, head_, the entire club was focused on the three boys dancing, but Finn was no longer nervous. The music ended to thunderous applause and cries of "Again!" Jason made a circling motion at the DJ's booth, and the music started up again with hardly a pause.

"Come on," Jason cried, grabbing guys right and left and pulling them onto the dance floor, behind Kurt. "You can do this." He motioned for them to follow along. Kurt was fearlessly leading the charge, and Jason helped with a demonstration here and a hand on someone's hip there. Finn just went along as best he could. He could feel other eyes on him, and he tried extra hard to do everything right. First there were six of them, then ten, and by the last repeat they had several dozen doing a reasonably close attempt at the routine.

This time there was an even more emphatic cry of "Again!" and "More!" when the three and a half minute song ended. The thirty or so on the floor were gelling faster than Finn would have believed possible – _but then, they were all there to dance,_ he thought, and he definitely was including himself in the "all." He felt a tremendous urge to whoop out loud, but he restrained himself until the final stanza had been played, and everyone was hugging and high-fiving and –

And Jason grabbed him and planted a firm kiss right on his mouth, before moving on to hug Kurt and clap other boys on the back. It was over so quickly Finn thought he might have been imagining the significance of it, but he did notice Jason didn't kiss any other boys, and that might have been a blush on those bronze cheeks.

Kurt was beside himself with excitement. He grabbed Finn by the arm and leapt up and down a few times before he could get out any words. "I don't know if I should be pissed, or promise to do _more _of your chores when we get home," he gasped. "Whoa, was that a rush. Thank you, whichever of you did this."

"It was all him," Jason assured Kurt, coming back up and leaning casually up against Finn. Finn smiled at Kurt and tried to be calm as he put his arm around Jason's shoulder.

"Well, I never would have had the courage to request it, much less do that routine, without the two of you there. I will never forget it." Kurt shook his head.

"Hey, you can bet we'll be doing it again the next time you come down," Jason said. "This might very well become an institution. And you'd better bring Blaine next time. He'd never forgive you if you let him miss it again."

Kurt laughed. "I think he's already regretting going to music camp this year."

"Hey!" said an unfamiliar voice, and Finn turned to see two boys approaching them with smiles. "You're from McKinley, right?" said the dark-haired one. "We're on the Fort Shawnee football team. You guys kicked our asses with that Single Ladies routine last fall."

"Uh, yeah," said Finn, grinning. "Sorry about that."

"Dude, it was pretty awesome," said the blonde boy. "I'm surprised to see you here, though." He looked at Jason with barely disguised interest, and Finn tightened his hold around Jason's shoulder.

"Glad to see we're all playing for the same team, now," Jason purred, leaning his head back against Finn's chest. Finn felt the sandpaper-satin skin of Jason's shorn scalp brush his neck.

"You weren't playing later in the season, though," said the dark-haired boy to Kurt. "I looked for you. What happened?"

"Kind of a long story," Kurt said. "Let's say our Glee club director and the football coach had a difference of opinion about when rehearsal should fall. They made us choose. We chose Glee."

"Well, most of us did," Jason said, lovingly patting Finn on the cheek.

"Hey, I'm the one who convinced Coach Tanaka to let us do both," he protested, feeling his face heat up.

"I just couldn't go back after that," said Kurt to the dark-haired boy. "It's no fun being part of a group that doesn't appreciate one's talents. Then I transferred to Dalton for a semester, but I'm back at McKinley now."

"Well, that was just about the coolest thing I've ever seen," said the boy, and he and Kurt shared a smile. "I'd like to see some of those moves again up close. Maybe you could show me."

"Ummmm," said Kurt, flickering his eyes to Finn and Jason. Finn wasn't sure if that was a _help me! _flicker or a _get lost, I'm trying to score_ flicker. He decided to err on the side of caution.

"It's too bad Blaine couldn't be here tonight," he said to Kurt, and Kurt's appreciative glance confirmed Finn's suspicions_._ "He's never seen you do that dance."

"Are _you_ going to dance tonight?" the blonde boy asked Jason.

"It's my night off," Jason said.

The blonde boy smiled. "Is that a no?"

Jason rolled his eyes around to look at Finn. "I think that's an it depends."

"On what?" Finn said.

"On what you want," Jason said, trailing his knuckles down Finn's chest. Finn felt his skin tingle where his fingers had been. He turned to face Finn, just inches away. "Do you want to see me dance?"

Finn opened his mouth, but shut it again and just nodded, not trusting words to express what he wanted.

"Out here in front of everybody?" he said quietly. "Or would you rather wait and get a… private dance later?"

Finn's head spun, but he managed to croak out, "Do I have to choose?" and heard Jason's breath come faster, heavier, just for a moment, and he suddenly, desperately wanted to be responsible for making his breath continue like that.

"That sounds like an affirmative," said the dark-haired one. "We'll be sure to stick around for that. Thanks, man. Nice job tonight," he added to Kurt, as they continued toward the bar.

Kurt sighed. "Such a shame. He was really quite lovely. But thank you for saving my virtue, Finn." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of that… Jason, can I talk with you a moment?"

Jason stepped out from the cradle of Finn's arm and followed Kurt away, glancing back at him with a guilty expression. Finn watched them go, then took a deep breath and went to find Graham. He thought it seemed like a good opportunity to finish their pool game, before he lost track of the night entirely.

• _your love is what I prefer, what I deserve • is a man that makes me, then takes me • and delivers me to a destiny, to infinity and beyond • pull me into your arms • say I'm the one you want • cause if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it •_


	11. Chapter 11

(Author's note: warning for Angsty!Puck. Sheesh, that boy does go on. Don't you just want to hit him on the head with a purse or something? One more chapter coming right away.)

* * *

><p>There were no quiet corners of the club at this time of night, and Kurt wasn't about to shout this over the whole establishment, so he decided outdoors might be a good bet for a semi-private conversation. His ears rang with the absence of sound as he and Jason ducked through the foyer and onto the humid streets of Dayton. The muted traffic sounds were a dull accompaniment to their footfalls as they found a place to stand away from the cigarette-smoking crowd by the door.<p>

"Okay, look," Kurt said quietly, "I'm know this is a night of abandon and all that, not to mention you're here 'with stupid,' but I have to say something." He looked Jason in the eye. "I know how you feel about him."

Jason looked back at the club, then at the ground. "I don't know what you –"

"I _know,_ okay?" Kurt said again. "You don't have to pretend with me. And trust me when I say he feels the same way."

There was a wild flash in Jason's eyes, but he shook his head. "No. No way. I'd know." He crossed his arms. "He's my—"

"Best friend? Maybe once, but not now. But he's my brother. I get plenty of time to watch him when he's not looking. Not in a creepy way," he amended. "When he thinks no one sees. And I see how you are around him. I see it." He shook his head. "This is not what either of you wants."

"He was my brother long before he was yours," Jason shot out, cocking one hip. "Why don't you let him decide what he wants?"

"Because he's going to get hurt. And so are you." Kurt gestured at the club with one expressive hand. "You don't just want one night with him. You want more than that. What's going to happen tomorrow when things are all over?"

"Kurt," Jason said through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes. "You don't understand. I – I _can't_ have more than this, here. I can't – do this at home. He would never…" He took a deep breath. "… and I can't either."

"What? Why not? You've got to at least tell him how you feel."

"Please, Kurt – _please." _Jason reached out both hands and grabbed Kurt's. "Just – please let me have this. You have no idea – god, I never thought –"

"Yes, I don't think he ever thought either," said Kurt. "But apparently _he does._ And _he wants to._ And you're just being a coward when you would choose one night over something more, with _your best friend." _ He squeezed Jason's hands. "You're not alone in this. It would be okay. Let me –"

"No, dude." The word slipped out, and just for a second he was Puck, and he glared at Kurt with fear. "No. I can't. Don't do anything. Just – let him make up his own mind. I—I promise I'll talk to him. Tomorrow. We'll talk, okay?" He said _talk_ like it was akin to murdering his pets.

Kurt swallowed. "I don't know. It's against my better judgment. I know he was supposed to be here to protect me and all, but I'm here to protect him, too, understand? What's his mom going to say if I bring him home with a broken heart?"

Jason closed his eyes and staggered a little. "I don't think that's going to be a problem," he said quietly. "He loves Rachel. He broke up with Quinn for her."

"And while we're on the subject, what about Lauren?" Kurt said accusingly. "You really want to cheat on her?"

"She knows. About – about Jason." He sighed. "And about Finn."

"She knows you're going to – with Finn?"

He shook his head. "No, she knows how – how I – feel about him." The words were ripped out of him unwillingly, and the look he gave Kurt was angry even as his lips trembled. "It's okay."

"Jason, this is _not _okay. Are you listening to yourself? What about _your_ heart?"

"It broke a long time ago," he spat. "Nothing I can do about it now." He walked away from Kurt, leaning heavily against a parking sign. "Can I have a few minutes alone? I need to – get myself back together."

Kurt looked at his broad back, his slumped shoulders, and walked slowly toward him. "Is there anything I can do?"

"_No._" He didn't look at Kurt. "Please - nobody gets to see this."

"You don't have to be alone, Puck," Kurt said softly, and he saw a shudder run over him.

"I don't get to _be _Puck," he said. "Not like this. Puck is an asshole. He's the one who throws guys like me into dumpsters."

"Not anymore," Kurt said. "You're different. You've changed."

"Yeah, and it's because I get to be Jason every weekend." He paused, wiping his face. "This is what changed me. Saturdays, I get to be everything I could never be at home. It's the only thing that keeps me – sane." He finally turned around and looked at Kurt. The fear was gone, leaving behind a dark emptiness.

Kurt shook his head sadly. "I get it. I know how frightening it can be to imagine being yourself in front of everyone. Look at me. Every day I'm afraid. But – it's _worth it._ You think I'd suffer slushies and dumpsters and stupid epithets every day if it wasn't _worth it?_ And you, you've got Glee. You're _not _alone. And Finn –"

"Finn would never do this at home," he said. "He's too concerned about appearances. And no matter what he – what he might feel – about me –" His voice broke on the last word and he paused to collect himself, tried again, "—he loves Rachel."

"Yeah, I know," Kurt said. "But if he has to choose between you, wouldn't it be better to move forward with all the information you can give him? Can't you let him decide?"

His head hung, as though he were too tired to hold it up anymore. "I'm too scared he won't – if he knows how I feel."

"And that's so important to you? One night of – what?"

"Whatever he'll give me," he whispered.

Kurt blew out a breath. "I still think this is a bad idea," he said. "And, just for the record, it's not because I don't like you. I saw you guys on the dance floor and I was so happy for you, for Finn." Kurt smiled gently. "I hope – it works out."

"Thanks." He turned around again, breathing deeply, and ran his hands over his head, his chest, as though he were skimming off water. When he turned back to Kurt, he was Jason again, and his eyes were calm. "I'm ready."


	12. Chapter 12

(Author's note: lots of foreplay herein, and probably each chapter thereafter. Enjoy, or get thee hence.)

* * *

><p>They reentered the club, showing their stamps, to the sounds of Natalia Kills' "Mirror," but Jason couldn't find Finn anywhere on the dance floor. Finally he noticed him in the back, shooting pool with Graham and Brett. He shook his head. <em>Trust Finn to find the most influential men in the bar and make friends with them. <em>He sauntered in and leaned against the wall, quietly watching Finn leaning over the table with his pool cue.

Brett noticed him first and chuckled. "Subtle, Jason," he said in his surprisingly deep voice.

"I'm not going to leave that fine ass unchecked," he said, shrugging. Finn spun around and saw him there, and Jason's smile widened as Finn's cheeks grew pink.

"You guys know each other?" Finn said, indicating Brett.

Brett and Graham both laughed. "I should hope so, honey," said Brett. "I hired him." He appraised Jason with detachment. "You're not dressed for dancing, but I hear you want a turn on the pole tonight?"

"I wasn't originally planning on it, but given the company, I thought it might be a nice opportunity." He watched Finn's blush deepen, and blinked slowly at him.

"David's about your size," said Graham, missing a difficult shot. "I bet he has a set of work clothes you could borrow."

"Maybe," said Jason. "I'd be okay in this."

"In a t-shirt and Diesel?" Brett scoffed. "You'd be on the floor in thirty seconds. Graham, see if you can find him some chaps. Or I think Andy has a pair of leather shorts he could squeeze into."

"Sure," said Graham. "Nice game, Finn. I think you nailed it." He gave Jason a meaningful look as he walked out.

Finn came over to stand by him. "What was that about?"

"Oh, it's just Graham," Jason said, waving a hand. "He's like the watchdog for every new boy who comes through here, making sure nobody gets hurt. I think he thinks I'm bad for you."

"Are you?" Finn asked, softly. Jason thought of the conversation he'd just had with Kurt, and felt something squeeze his heart. He turned to Finn, stepping close to him, and he smiled as Finn's arms automatically came around him.

"Not tonight," he said, running his hands over Finn's hips, cupping the cheeks of his ass. Finn's breath hitched. "Tonight I'm the best thing ever."

"Gentlemen," said Brett sternly, and they both jumped. "I suspect there's a more appropriate place for you to be doing that." He indicated the hallway to the restrooms. "Try the break room. I think it's empty for now. I'll send Graham back with the clothes in five minutes." He glared at Jason. "Please keep it decent. He's underage."

"Don't I know it," Jason grinned, and tugged Finn along behind him through the crowded club. They passed the restrooms, then went through a door marked _Employees Only. _It was starkly furnished, with a table and a few chairs, and packed along the walls with supplies, but quiet enough that Jason could hear Finn clear his throat.

"You're underage, too, you know," said Finn. "Are we breaking some kind of law or something?"

"I think you already covered that when you drank Graham's beer," Jason said, and Finn laughed nervously. He sat down in the orange plastic chair. Jason came over and stood behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. Finn let his eyes close and his head fall forward. Jason ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and he thrilled at the noise Finn made.

"It's been a long year," Jason said. "A lot has happened here, and… at home." He had to tread carefully, talking about that other place while being Jason, but somehow with Finn it felt okay.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Finn said. "You've been gone so much. We don't hang out anymore. I didn't even know about this job."

"Nobody knew," said Jason, digging his thumbs in. "I'd like to keep it that way."

"That's fine," said Finn quietly. "I won't – I'll keep your secret."

Jason moved his hands down Finn's back, between his shoulder blades, along his vertebrae. "It started with needing money to help out my mom," he said. "I found some past due bills, and there was a collector – it wasn't good. I didn't have anything left from cleaning pools, and you know nobody was hiring in Lima." Finn nodded, leaning into the pressure of Jason's hands.

"I had to quit dance with my teacher after eighth grade. We just couldn't afford it." He sighed. "It really sucked. I missed it. So I went looking for cheap classes, and I took this pole dancing one. The instructor said the style suited me." He didn't say how that comment had made him feel. It wasn't the kindest compliment he'd ever heard. "So then I went looking for work, and they were hiring here. That's it."

He stopped massaging and ran the flat of his hands over Finn's shoulders, to his chest. When he reached Finn's stomach, Finn brought up a hand and stopped him from moving lower. Jason smiled to himself. _Too bad those khakis are so baggy._

He circled around to face Finn, keeping one hand on him as he moved, like Finn was a skittish horse, and threw one leg over to straddle his lap, sitting close so their chests touched. Now Finn's face was tipped up to his, near enough that he could feel his breath. Finn's mouth hung open, and Jason touched his lips with one finger. He felt the tremor go through Finn's body, and he smiled again.

"Did you – did you know about – _this_ – before you came to work here?" Finn asked.

"No," said Jason. "I thought it was pretty weird at first. All the guys, hanging all over each other, whether they were gay or straight. But then I realized we were just human animals, like a tribe of chimpanzees, and it was just… natural." He trailed his finger along Finn's jaw. Finn's eyes closed. "We need… touch." His hand moved back on Finn's neck, behind his ear, into his hair. "We need to be… close."

Jason brought his face down, mirroring Finn's. He let Finn feel their lips brush, and only when Finn pressed forward to kiss him did he close his eyes and allow himself to experience the rush of joy waiting in his chest. He heard a noise, a desperate moan, but he couldn't be sure who'd made it.

"You had no idea you liked… guys?" Finn gasped, as Jason kissed along the path his fingers had drawn, up his jaw, to his ear.

"Truth?" Jason said, tracing a pattern with his tongue on Finn's earlobe. "Only you," he breathed.

"Oh, god," Finn said, his arms rising to clutch at Jason's back, pulling him forward so their chests collided, and desperately kissed him again. Jason marveled at the feel of Finn's tongue in his mouth, so bold, so much hotter than he'd expected from him.

"Do you remember in sixth grade," Finn began hesitantly, "that one time, when you and I –" but Jason shook his head, stopping him with a finger on his lips.

"This is about us, here, now," he said. "I – I can't talk about the past right now. I need – this. I need you to be here with me." He kissed him again, gently, almost chastely.

"Okay," Finn said, sounding worried. Jason pressed his forehead against Finn's.

"I do remember that," he whispered, relenting. "All my life, I remembered that."

"Okay," Finn said again, and this time it was thick with desire. He brought his hands down Jason's back and cupped his ass, mirroring Jason's earlier motions, and groaned as though he were the one being touched.

The door opened, and Jason looked up to see Graham, holding a folded pile of clothes. "Here, I've got a few things you can try on." He looked at Finn. "You okay, kid?"

"I'm – I'm fine," said Finn, as Jason stood up and took the clothes. He looked up at Jason, and the heat was still there. "Best ever."

Jason felt a dizzying rush of emotion that nearly buckled his knees. He smiled helplessly at Finn, and Graham sighed.

"I knew it," he said. "This is Prince Charming, right?"

Jason's face grew hot. "Graham –"

"Sorry, yeah." He waved it off. "You guys better get a room. I don't think the break room can handle what you want to dish out. Jason, you're on in fifteen." He disappeared back through the door.

Finn looked at Jason with sudden concern. "Kurt – he's in our room. We can't—"

"I'll take care of it," Jason said. He laughed.

"What is it?" Finn asked, standing and moving close to him again.

"You," said Jason. "You're so sure we're going to need a room without Kurt tonight."

"Yeah," said Finn. He bent his knees a little so their chests and hips were lined up, and gripping Jason's ass, he ground against his pelvis. Jason gasped, feeling their hard cocks pressing together. "I'm sure," he said.

"Finn," Jason moaned, "fuck."

"One thing at a time," Finn said, and kissed him again.

• _squeeze, hot, hold that pose • you know I like it • do it sweetheart, I'm the boss • I'll let you get close to it • I'm gonna make tonight a show • turning the lights out • burning the candles • and the mirror's gonna fog tonight • _


	13. Chapter 13

(Author's note: I woke this morning with plotbunnies like you wouldn't believe, and I just had to write this scene. The music is "Candy Shop" by 50 Cent. If you've never seen pole dancing, look for Steven Retchless and Bad Azz on Youtube - they are both amazing in their own way.)

* * *

><p>Jason kicked Finn out of the break room while he changed into his costume. "A guy's got to have some secrets," he said, smiling at Finn. Finn refrained from pointing out he'd seen him naked countless times before, in the locker room, sleeping over at his house. Because he knew, he <em>knew, <em>this was different, and he knew Jason knew it, too.

Finn stood outside in the hallway, hearing the DJ announcing Jason's dance. He touched his lips and thought about Jason's on his. They had felt different from a girl's lips: rougher, firmer, but no less hot. He supposed a kiss was a kiss. _I like kissing guys,_ he thought, and the idea made him squirm. No. _I like kissing... Jason. _ That felt better.

Suddenly Kurt was there, grabbing his hand, pulling him out to the dance floor, which was full of milling people, waiting for the performance to begin. "Let's go right up front," said Kurt, and they somehow managed to find a space there, just a few feet away from the pole on the stage. David was waiting, too, and gave Finn a chilly smile.

"We've got more unexpected entertainment, folks," called the DJ over the speaker. "Single Ladies was apparently only the beginning. Let's everyone give a warm Masque welcome to one of our regulars, here on his day off to give us another treat. Put your hands together for Jason!"

Hooting and catcalls gave way to applause as the music started up.

• _yeah... uh huh… so seductive •_

At first the stage was dark. Then a single blue-filtered spot lit up the pole, and Jason was there, the light shining off the angles and planes of his sculpted body. He wore a different black t-shirt than he'd had on earlier, cut differently, with sharper angles in the arms and neck. On the bottom he had on the shortest pair of leather shorts Finn had ever seen. He actually wasn't sure he'd ever seen leather shorts before. They were nearly too short to be classified as shorts and would not have been out of place at a pool party. _Well, a dirty pool party, anyway. _ Jason's legs and feet were bare.

"Usually he wears a pair of four-inch heels," said David, and Finn's breath went out in a shuddering gasp, as he imagined what that would do to Jason's already impressive calves.

• _I'll take you to the candy shop • I'll let you lick the lollipop • go ahead girl, don't you stop • keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa •_

Jason strode out, stepping around the pole, carefully placing his feet, not actually touching but turning, bending, stretching around it, like it was his dance partner. Finn imagined what it would be like if _he_ were the partner, instead of the pole, and suddenly the temperature in the room shot up at least ten degrees.

Jason's arm went out, beckoning toward the audience, calling them in. He set the rhythm, striding out, then back, sinuously in and out, twirling around the pole. When he put out a hand at last to grip it, Finn flinched, feeling it in his cock, and apparently he wasn't the only one, as a collective sigh went up around him.

Finn looked at the men and boys surrounding him with a growing sense of unease. There were high school kids, and college students, and older guys too. They were all watching Jason, watching him do these... things, as Finn was. They were heating up, getting hard, from _Jason._ Finn frowned, clutching at his thighs with both hands.

Kurt touched his shoulder. His face was concerned. "You okay?" he asked.

Finn felt warring sensations of desire and disgust. "I don't think they should be looking at him that way," he said. "I mean -"

Kurt's smile was slow and knowing. "_You're_ looking at him that way."

"That's different," he said. "He's -" He choked, realizing he was about to say - what had he been about to say? _He's mine?_ Finn shook his head. "He's underage," he said, and he knew it sounded stupid, but Kurt squeezed his shoulder and didn't say anything else.

• _you can have it your way, how do you want it • back that thing up or should I push up on it • temperature rising, okay, let's go to the next level • dance floor jam packed, hot as a teakettle • _

Now Jason was holding onto the pole with both hands, rocking against it in a distinctly obscene movement. The way his hips moved was different than the way he'd been on the dance floor: more fluid, more free. He turned around and stepped with his toes, bending down to touch his feet with his ass against the pole. Finn had to look away, his face burning, but his eyes were swiftly drawn back, as he was compelled to watch Jason dance.

_He's still as good as he ever was,_ Finn thought, somehow surprised. He'd forgotten how incredibly _good_ Puck had been at this. He recalled all the times he had seen him at competitions, or waited for him to finish his dance lesson, or watched him practice at the barre or in the studio. Jason was different, hotter, flirtier, but his technique was as familiar to Finn as Puck's laugh.

Now, Jason put up one hand and lifted himself up, and suddenly, impossibly, he was in the air - _how did he _do_ that? -_ spinning down around the pole with impeccable grace and poise. He looked like he was simply relaxing with legs crossed, yet somehow attached to the pole at the center. He blew a joyous kiss at the audience, and a cheer erupted around Finn.

• _what we do (what we do) • and where we do (and where we do) • the things we do (things we do) • are just between me and you (oh yeah) •_

Jason rode the pole with impressive control. From the top he descended, first with legs spread, holding on with one hand, then in the crook of one knee, than with no hands, twirling, y-shape with the floor, rocking his hips to the beat. Finn found himself applauding.

"He's good, huh?" David said, leaning over.

"He has an incredible body," Finn said, and he heard Kurt choke.

Jason held on with one hand, not letting go until he had both legs around the pole, then leaned back. He was upside down one minute, then right-side up the next, without hesitation. He rode on one leg, back bent nearly vertical, and swept off his shirt in one fluid, effortless movement. The shirt fell to the floor as the crowd cheered for him.

He ascended the pole again and again, climbing to the top, swirling around slowly to the bottom. Finn's mind drifted to other, similar rhythmic movements, and his cock throbbed.

• _dripping wet with sweat, man, it's on and popping • all my champagne campaign, bottle after bottle its on • and we gon' sip 'til every bubble in every bottle is gone •_

Finn watched as Jason crossed his arms above his head, then let them slowly slide down his head, his shoulders, down his ribs. He was posing, making it sexy, using lots of eye contact with his audience, giving them just enough without letting them have it all. Finn's breath came faster as he realized, with a rush that nearly made him pass out, that _he_ was going to have - that he might be able to have -

"God," he said, and he was panicking, at last. Kurt looked at him, but Finn shook his head, backed away, turned and pushed his way out of the crowd, heedless of the bodies he was slamming away, just needing space, to be away from the press and smell and heat of all those male forms.

He found himself standing in the pool annex, which was nearly empty. He put both hands on the edge of the table and leaned on them, breathing hard, feeling dizzy.

"It's okay," said Graham, suddenly beside him, and Finn turned to him, letting Graham put his arms around him and hold him tight. There was no eroticism in his embrace, just the arms of a man, giving comfort, and Finn relaxed, feeling his breath calm and his heart slow.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing here," Finn said, into Graham's shoulder.

"Yeah, you do," said Graham.

"I don't know what I want."

"Yeah, you do." Graham smiled gently. "It's okay, kid. It's okay to want it."

"I'm scared," Finn whispered.

"You think you're the only one?" He pointed at the dance floor. "Every one of these guys feel the same way. Me, too, sometimes, and I've been wanting it for thirty-three years." He put a hand on Finn's chest. "Just listen to yourself, in here. Don't think too much with your dick. Don't be afraid to stop, think about it. Let your heart guide you, okay?"

Finn nodded, wiping his eyes and sitting on the edge of the pool table. Graham's face was kind. "How do you know so much?" Finn said.

"Didn't you hear me? I'm old. Old people know stuff."

"You and – Brett – you really own this club?"

"Yeah." Graham looked around fondly. "Home sweet home. But I'll tell you a secret." He put his lips near Finn's ear. "I hate to dance," he whispered, and Finn laughed.

"He's in here," said Kurt, stepping in from the dance floor. "Finn, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Finn said. "Sorry. I just… I needed a break for a second." He was about to say something else, but then Jason ran in, glistening with sweat and clad in nothing but the leather shorts, and nothing came out of Finn's open mouth but breath.

"Finn," Jason said, reaching out a tentative hand, and Finn took it, tangling their fingers together for a moment, then let it drop. Jason's face was troubled.

"Okay," he said, sighing. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to head back to the hotel. Don't worry, I'm fine – I just don't think I can get back on the floor after that. I'm done. You guys stay as long as you want. I'm going to get cleaned up and head to bed. When you're ready, come find me. If I'm not awake, wake me up, and we can talk." He looked searchingly into Finn's eyes. "Understand?"

"I – okay," said Finn. Kurt nodded. "You sure you're okay walking back by yourself?"

"I'll be fine," Jason said, smiling. He turned to go.

"Hey," said Finn, quietly, and Jason turned back. He cleared his throat. "Nice job, man. You… you're still a great dancer."

Jason's eyes softened and his smile faltered. "Thank you," he said. "It's… good to hear that from you." He waved at Graham, who nodded, and touched Kurt on the shoulder before hurrying back to get his clothes. Finn watched as he graciously accepted praise and affectionate touches from the club patrons as he walked by.

"He does that three times on Saturdays?" said Kurt. "God. He must be exhausted every weekend."

"How does he get up for school on Monday?" Finn said. Then he looked at Graham, feeling the lie of Jason's age exposed. "I didn't mean –" he stuttered, trying to get it back, but Graham was shaking his head.

"It's okay," he said. "We all know. It's easy to tell the difference between twenty-two and – what? Seventeen?" Finn nodded, numbly, and Graham shrugged. "Sometimes lies are important."

"Sometimes they go on too long," Finn said, and suddenly, he felt an overwhelming pain in his chest. He staggered with the enormity of it, and put a hand on his heart, gasping.

Graham caught him with one hand, held him up. "What? What is it?"

"Kurt," Finn whimpered.

"I'm here," Kurt said, flanking Finn on the other side. "Tell me."

"Oh my god," he said. He covered his mouth with one hand, trying to keep his face together. "Oh my god, Kurt."

"It's okay," Kurt said.

"Why didn't I know this?" He shook his head, feeing like a puzzle with little balls where each one has a spot to fill, and at last, everything had settled into its proper place. "Am I completely clueless?"

"Yes, you are," said Kurt, but Graham shook his head.

"We can't see it when it's us," he said. "Sometimes we're just too close to it."

"No," said Kurt, smiling at Graham. "Believe me. He's just clueless."

"I – I've got to go tell him." Finn stood up. "Now. Is he still here?"

"He's probably on his way back," Kurt said. "I'll walk with you. We'll find him."

"Hey, kid," said Graham. He took Finn's hand, half-shaking, half-cradling it, and smiled. "Go get your Prince Charming."

"Yeah," Finn said, feeling suddenly completely awake, maybe for the first time ever. "I will."


	14. Chapter 14

Finn wanted to run, to try to catch up to Jason on the way to the hotel, but Kurt held him back. "We need time to talk before you see him," he said.

"Kurt, I'm sorry to take you away from the club so early," Finn said. "It's only midnight. I know you probably want to stay –-"

"It's okay," Kurt said. "I had an incredible time. And now I know we can come back. Right?" He looked meaningfully at Finn, who swallowed, nodded. "But you need to take care of something else first."

"Yeah." Finn looked at his shoes. "Rachel." He looked miserable. "We've been – it's been a good summer so far. We're mostly getting along. I really love her. I don't know what to do."

"Finn. How many girls were in that club tonight?"

"Um," said Finn, thinking back to the dance floor. "Does Wanda count?"

"Describe one girl who was there tonight," Kurt pressed on doggedly. He waited while Finn thought, and came up with nothing. "You entirely missed the twins with the "Thang 1" and "Thang 2" sweaters? With the great big – you know?" Kurt made pendulous motions with his hands.

Finn sighed and put a hand to this forehead. "Yeah. I think this means something. I do love Rachel. But I…"

Kurt held up a forestalling hand. "_Don't_ have the first time you say it aloud be to _me." _He gave Finn a pitying look. "You'll always regret it."

Finn took his phone out of his pocket and looked at it with distaste. "I've never broken up with someone on the phone before."

"It's either that, or wait until after the fact." Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Or don't do anything tonight with Jason."

Finn turned red. "I don't really think that's a realistic option," he mumbled. Kurt laughed.

"Okay. Do it." Kurt pointed at the phone.

"Here? In front of you?"

"I'm your witness."

Finn sighed again, and called Rachel on speed-dial. He waited for a moment, then looked hopeful. "I got her voice mail," he whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" Kurt whispered.

"I don't know," Finn whispered. Then, in a normal voice, or as normal a voice as he could manage, he said, "Hey, Rach, it's Finn. Um, I really need to talk with you about something. I know it's kind of late, but if you get this message, can you call or text? It's important. Hope you're having fun with your dads. Thanks."

He hung up and looked at the phone a few more seconds, as if he was hoping it would call him back. "I guess that's my answer for now. I'm _not_ going to do it on voice mail."

"Completely understood," Kurt said. They walked down the street toward the hotel. Kurt's quicker footfalls made a sharp staccato on the sidewalk beside Finn's longer stride.

"Another thing. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you," Kurt said, his ears pink, "but… do you know about… sex? With guys?"

"Kurt!" Finn glanced at him once, then looked fixedly ahead of them, his cheeks burning. "Jesus."

"Well, do you? Because I didn't know anything until my dad and I had The Talk and he made me read these pamphlets."

Finn bit his lip. "I can imagine it's not so different for guys as it is for a guy and a girl. And yes, I've done _that_. Um, once."

"Well, you're ahead of me," said Kurt. "I'm not saying you have to, I just think you should – think about it. Before you jump into anything. I know you care about him, Finn, but that doesn't mean you only have this one chance with him."

"I think I kind of do," Finn said softly. "He's not like this back home. I mean, _you_ know what he's like. But he doesn't… he's not interested in…" Finn huffed in frustration. "I think this is going to be the only place we can be together, like this."

"And is that going to be enough for you?" Kurt's eyes were piercing. "Are you seriously planning to break up with Rachel just for… what? Weekends at the club with Jason?"

"If that's what he can manage." They were on the corner now, and the sound of the music was nearly too faint to hear. Finn turned around and gazed down South Jefferson at the club, and then across the intersection, down 3rd Street to the hotel. He leaned his back against the lamp post.

"But is that what you want?" Kurt pressed.

"No, of course it's not what I want," Finn snapped.

"So what _do _you want?"

"I don't know." Finn kicked at a crumpled cigarette box. "How should I know that? I've had, like, six minutes to think about it."

"Don't you think you should know what you want from somebody before you walk into a hotel room to have sex with them?"

Finn was silent for so long that Kurt considered repeating his question, but at last Finn looked at him, and his eyes were full of unexpressed emotion. "It's not _somebody,_ Kurt," he said. "It's _Puck._ He's… well, it's always been him and me. My mom and his mom used to threaten us with bodily harm to get us to come home every night. Before we started dating girls, we were more inseparable than Mike and Tina, and before Quinn, girls were never a big deal. It was us, always us." He looked across the street, squinting at nothing. "I missed him so fucking much this year."

"Because he was here, working," Kurt said quietly.

"It was more than that. I never really forgave him after Beth… happened. I said I did, but it wasn't the same. I stopped calling him and started calling Rachel instead. Or you. Family stuff; it used to be Puck who'd come to that. He was like my brother." Finn swiped at his eyes. "And he just wasn't around."

Kurt put a hand to his mouth. "Finn – I didn't realize I'd taken his place. God, I bet he hates me."

"No, he'd hate himself instead. He's never been good at forgiving himself." Finn laughed, a dry, brittle sound. "Funny, I've never seen him so happy as he is here. Maybe he finally found a way to do it."

"Or maybe he just leaves all the parts of himself he wants to forgive at home on the weekend." Kurt pressed the button for the WALK signal, even though there was almost no traffic around, but when the signal changed, Finn stayed where he was.

"The thing is, I _like_ all those parts," he said. "I don't just want the Jason parts, or the Puck parts. I want _all _of them. All of them, together. Here and at home - all of it."

"You want to be… out?" Kurt was startled. "At home? At school?"

"I don't know about school. But yeah, at home. We'd have time to get ready to tell folks at school. Summer romance, and all that." He smiled faintly. "Rachel told me she wanted me to have a fling so she could write a song about it. I'm almost afraid to think what she's going to come up with now."

"You're so sure this is what you want? I mean, you guys haven't even kissed." Finn looked away, his faint smile growing, and a pale blush crept up his neck. Kurt made a noise of disbelief. _"Finn?"_

"In the break room," he said. "We kind of made out."

"Kind of?" Kurt was torn between impressed and annoyed. "You clearly don't understand the girl code of sharing every shred of detail. So, how was it?"

"Different," Finn said. "But the same."

"Okay, I think we're going to have to work on this detail concept."

"Um. It was hot?" He ran a finger along his jaw, lost in memory. "It didn't even compare to anything else I've done before, Kurt. It was _Puck."_

Kurt nodded. "Your Prince Charming, hmm?"

"Apparently." He kicked the cigarette carton, hard, and it landed in the gutter. "Yes. That's what I really want. The happily ever after. Not just one night." He sighed, long and low. "But I don't think I'm going to get it."

"At least now you know what you want to stand up for," Kurt said. "How much of this did you think you were going to get before today? And look where you are now. You ask for what you want, you're a lot more likely to get it than if you don't."

"I guess I don't have much to lose, huh?" Finn said.

Kurt pressed the WALK signal button again. "Are we going to turn the corner now?"

"I think I already have," Finn said.

• _call your girlfriend, it's time you had the talk • give your reasons, say it's not her fault • but you just met somebody new • don't you tell her how I give you something that you never even knew you missed • don't you even try and explain how it's so different when we kiss •_


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt stopped him outside the door to the hotel room and handed him the key. "Here. I'm going to my room."

Finn stared at him, confused. "Your room? But –-"

"I'll be four doors down that way," Kurt pointed. "816. Close enough that you can come knock if you need anything – _anything -– _and far enough away that I won't have to hear you by mistake." He smiled at Finn's dumbstruck expression. "I expect to hear from you in the morning, though. We'll all have breakfast together before we head back."

"You –- you knew this was going to happen." He was stunned. "How did you-?"

"Some of us aren't as clueless as you, Finn," Kurt said, and he hugged him to take the sting out of his words. "Good luck."

"… Thanks," he said, and watched Kurt walk down the hall, unlock another door and disappear behind it. He shook his head, first with amazement, then again, trying to clear it. Then he slid the card into the magnetic lock, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The room appeared empty, but Finn heard the water running in the shower and knew Jason wasn't far. He checked his phone, but Rachel hadn't called back. He sighed.

An eight-pack of bottled water and a paper sack sat on the table. Finn poked inside with one hand, then jerked his hand back as though he'd been bitten. Condoms and… lube. _Gah._

He called Rachel again, but it still went to voice mail. He didn't bother to leave another message; he knew it would just annoy her. She'd see he'd called again and know it was important.

Faint strains of vocals drew him to the door of the bathroom. He put his ear to the door and heard a familiar voice, singing an even more familiar song: "A singer in a smoky room… the smell of wine and cheap perfume… for a smile they can share the night, it goes on and on and on and on…"

He grinned, and with only a momentary hesitation, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the steamy bathroom. He could see Jason's silhouette behind the translucent glass door, his hands rubbing soap across his skin as he sang.

"Strangers waiting… up and down the boulevard…" Finn sang, pulling a towel off the rack and wrapping it around his waist. "Shadows searching in the night."

Jason's voice cut off immediately, and Finn saw his body jerk back in shock. He slid the door open and poked a surprised head out to see Finn leaning on the sink, grinning at him.

"Streetlight people… living just to find emotion… hiding somewhere in the night," Finn continued, wailing into an imaginary microphone. Jason laughed, shaking his head, but he joined in, and they sang together: "Working hard to get my fill… everybody wants a thrill…"

The song was a comfortable cushion between them, something they could sing without thinking about it. Finn didn't stutter once as Jason raked his eyes up and down Finn's body, then nodded approval. "Paying anything to roll the dice, just one more time."

"Some will win, some will lose… some were born to sing the blues..." Finn was able to take it in stride, even to smile back and consider Jason's own nude form. He could only see hints of it, with the door in the way. He'd seen nearly all of it on stage, and for the first time ever had been able to look – _okay, Finn, be honest… to stare, to gawk, to fixate on –_ as much as he wanted without anyone telling him he was doing something wrong. And yet, here, in this moment, just a glimpse of his bare chest was doing funny things to Finn's breathing. Not to mention other parts of him, mercifully covered by the towel.

"Oh, the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on…" Jason was hamming it up, reaching out a hand to Finn around the door, and they clutched each other's fingers on the high notes. The acoustics of the shower made them sound amazing, of course, and it gave him confidence. More than that, it filled something in him he hadn't known he was missing. _I love singing with him,_ he thought, amazed. _ Why didn't I remember that?_

"Strangers… waiting… up and down the boulevard… shadows searching in the night…" Jason tugged on his hand, jerking his head to the shower and raising his eyebrow in a clear invitation. _Come on in?_

Finn didn't think, he just hung on to the familiar song, dropped his towel, and stepped over the lip of the tub.

"Streetlight people… living just to find emotion… hiding somewhere in the night," they sang, Finn desperately not looking anywhere, dammit, _anywhere,_ but at Jason's warm hazel eyes. He slid his hands up to Jason's arms, so they were standing in a loose embrace, and after the last high note faded, they were left with only the white noise of the shushing water.

"If I were by myself I'd sing the guitar solo, but I don't think I can do that right now," said Jason, matter-of-factly.

"Don't stop on my account," Finn said.

"It's just that I'd rather do this," said Jason, and pulled Finn's mouth down to his for a kiss. Finn arched his neck so that only their lips would touch, but as the heat grew, he stopped worrying about keeping their bodies apart.

And _ohhhh,_ their bodies. Each contact point – an elbow, a hand on a shoulder, the bump of their chests – brought forth a new noise of exclamation and desire from one or both of them, until they were moaning into each other's mouths. The water from the shower and the soap still clinging to Jason's body made them slick and slippery, and intensified the sensation of skin-on-skin until Finn was gasping, thinking wildly, _Holy crap, the mailman? Seriously?_

Jason seemed to know what he was thinking, and he stood up on his toes to whisper in Finn's ear, "Don't hold back, baby. Just let it happen. I want it all." He ran his strong hands down Finn's back and pulled Finn's hips into his, and the crash of their wet cocks together was Finn's undoing. He clenched his eyes shut, reflexively, as he felt the pressure gather in his gut, then wrenched them open again in shock at the feel of Jason's hand stroking his cock. He didn't think he'd ever been so hard.

"Oh, god, oh, god," he cried, his words tumbling out of his lips without any of his doing, and he watched with disbelief as a naked, soap-slick Jason jacked Finn's cock off onto his own stomach, delight and desire in equal parts on his beautiful face.

When the come shot from his cock and landed on Jason's smooth chest and abs, Finn thought he might pass out from embarrassment, but somehow Jason just made it hotter by running his fingers across it, rubbing it in like it was lotion, like it was a sacred balm, making it part of him.

"You're so good, yeah, so hot, baby," Jason moaned, and pulled him close again. His hands went to Finn's ass, firmly wedging their hips together. Finn felt the water and pressure of wet skin acutely on his almost too-sensitive cock, but he didn't care. The sensation of Jason's body against his was something he never, never wanted to end.

He felt the blistering heat and slippery silk of Jason's own erection, grinding into the hollow of his hip, and he dared to reach a hand between them to touch him, to grip him in his hand. Jason cried out, sounds without words, and every one was a brand to Finn's rapidly recharging desire. _I made him feel these things,_ Finn thought with pleasure, with pride, even. _ Just as he made me feel._

"I've never felt like this before," he choked out, and the shock on Jason's face almost made him stop stroking, but he breathed through it, watched him for any sign of disgust or rejection. When he saw none, he renewed his courage. "I haven't done… any of this. With anyone. Not since…"

"I know," Jason said, and bucked his hips into Finn's grip, his eyes fluttering closed, then open again. His lips curved up in an amazed smile. "I'm so glad it's with me. Again."

"Me, too," Finn groaned, feeling lightheaded. He staggered a little, and Jason caught him in his arms before he could fall.

Jason's eyes were huge, dark pools. There were droplets of water on his eyelashes. Finn wanted to kiss them, to taste the water on his tongue, but he thought it might seem too corny. He shuddered, not trusting the emotions that were so raw, so much right on the surface. There was too much he wanted to say, and he didn't know the right words. "I –" he tried.

"Let's get out of the shower," Jason suggested.

"What about…" Finn squeezed Jason's erection, eliciting another delicious noise from him, but Jason smiled and disentangled himself from Finn's grip.

"I'm not in any hurry," he said. "We've got all night." He turned off the water and ran his hands down the side of his body, the water sluicing off him in sheets. Leaning around the door, he grabbed each of them a clean towel and applied his to Finn's chest. "You're like a present. I want to unwrap you a little bit at time."

"A present?" Finn repeated, grinning. _Okay, maybe he didn't need to worry about being too corny._

"Yeah, it's almost my birthday," Jason said, and wrapped his towel around Finn's shoulders, tugging him toward him for a kiss. Finn delighted in the rasp of Jason's stubble against his face, and reached a hand up to cup his cheek.

"Can you think of anything I can give you?" Finn asked, hearing his voice come out a half an octave lower than usual. Jason paused, looking searchingly at Finn, eyes wide. _Damn, I didn't mean to make it sound that serious. _But, of course, it was.

"Is there something you _want _– to give me?" Jason whispered.

Finn felt the ridiculous urge to kiss his eyelids again, and this time he gave in. Jason's breath shuddered in his chest. "Would I scare you if I said – everything?" Finn said.

"Everything." Jason's voice was flat, which Finn knew meant he was overwhelmed, but he didn't pull away.

Finn swallowed. "I'm sorry, man, that was… too much. I'm sorry," he said again.

"No – Finn." Jason moved the towel and put a hand on his chest, flat. Finn felt the heat rise between them like steam. He breathed, and Jason's hand rose with it. "I just don't think you quite get what you're saying here."

Finn thought about himself standing on the corner, looking in both directions, at the club, at the hotel. He took a step forward. "You made me an offer, earlier tonight. That I could be someone here, someone I'd never been, and then when we went home, it would… all be gone. Like a dream?"

"More like a… a suit, put away in a closet." Jason smiled, but it looked a little forced.

"Yeah. Well. I don't want that."

"You… you don't?" Jason looked startled, but before he could get upset, Finn went on.

"I want to take this…" He put a matching hand on Jason's chest, covering his heart. "What we have. I want to take it home. I want to have it all."

"What do you mean?" Jason seemed genuinely confused.

"I want Jason… and I want… Puck."

Jason _flinched,_ and drew back, at the sound of that name. His lip curled a little bit and he took a step back from Finn, putting a gap between their bodies. Finn's hand fell away.

"Puck," Jason said. He seemed to taste the name on his lips. Finn leaned in and captured his mouth, kissing him hard, searching. When they broke apart, he gasped with the shock of it.

"Puck," Finn said. He looked into familiar hazel eyes, now full of surprise, and fear. "I want my best friend."

"Dude," he said. "Puck doesn't like guys."

"He likes me," Finn said. "Remember?"

For a moment, Finn thought he was going to bolt, to actually leave the room, regardless of how little clothing he was wearing. Finn reached around and put his other hand on the small of his back. "When you go home on Sunday every week," he prompted. "What do you do to get Puck back?"

"I get changed… I…" His eyes flickered across the room, then back. "I play my guitar."

"Yeah?" Finn smiled, genuinely pleased. "Would you play for me? Now?"

"Uh." He looked worried.

"What is it?"

"Jason can't play guitar," he said, and his voice was strained.

Finn walked over to the Taylor's case, laid it on its side and snapped open the latches. "So let Puck play."

Finn watched him lift the lid and place his hand on the neck of the guitar. He lifted it out and brought it over to the bed, sitting on the edge, and checked the tuning with a few harmonics. It seemed to have slipped his mind that he hadn't put on any clothes after his shower, and Finn didn't call it to his attention. He thought he'd never seen anything quite so sexy as Puck, naked, sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, playing his guitar.

Puck looked at Finn, uncertainly, while his fingers picked a familiar opening progression. Then he took a breath, and sang, in his smoky, rich voice:

_Saying "I love you"_

_Is not the words I want to hear from you_

_It's not that I want you_

_Not to say, but if you only knew how easy_

_It would be to show me how you feel_

Finn felt the smile spread on his face, unbidden, and the harmonies came easily as he joined in:

_More than words_

_Is all you have to do to make it real_

_Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me_

_'Cause I'd already know_

Puck's position was relaxed and calm, but he didn't look at Finn as he sang the contemplative falsetto:

_What would you do if my heart was torn in two_

_More than words to show you feel_

_That your love for me is real_

Finn looked at Jason – no, at _Puck -_ and got to see him all over again. He watched the easy rhythm of his strong body, his full lips singing each line, and was warmed from within.

_What would you say if I took those words away_

_Then you couldn't make things new_

_Just by saying "I love you."_

They were familiar enough with the song to fill in together between verses with hums and "la da dahs." It was easy, so achingly easy. Finn felt his heart constrict.

_Now but I've tried to talk to you_

_And make you understand_

_All you have to do is close your eyes_

_And just reach out your hands_

_And touch me_

_Hold me close, don't ever let me go_

Finn put a hand on Puck's bare thigh, and Puck's eyes snapped up to his. Finn remembered Mr. Schue's lesson on ballads, remembered how hard he'd found it to sing to Kurt, and put all the feeling he could into the next lines, holding his gaze.

_More than words_

_Is all I ever needed you to show_

_Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me_

_'Cause I'd already know._

Puck's voice faltered into silence, but Finn didn't let him look away until he carried the song through to the end.

"Yeah," Finn murmured. He reached out and took the guitar in one hand, set it aside on the bed. Puck looked somehow more vulnerable without it. Finn carefully moved into the space between Puck's thighs, watching his open mouth, his nervous tongue dart across his lips, and slowly, ever so slowly, kissed him. And, after a momentary hesitation, Puck kissed him back.

It was, surprisingly, nothing like kissing Jason. Jason held nothing back, but he was otherwise an ordinary kisser. Puck – Puck was a _pro._ Every movement was carefully paced for maximum impact. Finn had never been kissed like this. It suddenly didn't matter how many girls Puck had kissed in his life. It had all been practice for this moment.

Finn found himself gradually coming apart under Puck's expert ministrations. At the same time he felt Puck waking up, unfolding from himself, and finally, incredibly, putting his arms around Finn to hold him in one place while his mouth had its way with him.

Puck pulled away long enough to move the guitar to the floor, and then they were drawn together again, Puck pulling Finn down with him to lie on the bed. He clutched at Finn's face in disbelief and mounting intensity, and Finn responded in kind.

"Holy fuck, Finn," Puck muttered into his mouth. They were too close for eye contact, but Finn fixed his gaze on Puck's throat, watching his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Puck's pulse point beat steadily, athlete-slow. Finn, mesmerized, brought his lips down on the flicker of his pulse, and was rewarded with another strangled curse.

Finn had never been so grateful for the coaching Sam had given him about lifting weights and eating the right foods. Even as he thought that, he knew there was no way his body would measure up to Puck's, ever, when clearly Puck worked his ass off to make it strong and supple. _All right, wrong expression,_ he amended, as he brought his hands down Puck's back to his behind with newfound appreciation. _Ass definitely attached. _

"This okay?" he said to Puck, breathlessly pulling their bodies closer together, sending stars up his spine as their hips bumped.

"Wait," Puck gasped. Finn immediately stopped and sat back. "You don't want to do this."

"The hell I don't," Finn protested, but Puck shook his head.

"You can't cheat on Rachel. I'm a player, and even I won't let you do that to her. You love her."

"I love you more," Finn said angrily, before he could help himself. Then he felt the shocked silence descend over them, and put a hand over his face, and sighed.

"Dude," Puck said softly.

"Yeah," he snapped. He sat up and put his feet over the side of the bed, snagging his pants.

"What are you doing?" Puck sounded a little panicked.

"I'm calling Rachel," he said.


	16. Chapter 16

(Author's note: Sorry about the cliffhanger, I figured it was better to post what I had, then to make y'all wait. More coming. -amy)

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><p>"Wait," said Puck, and now he sounded a lot panicked. He put his hands over Finn's, trapping the cell phone inside them. "You can't tell Rachel."<p>

"I can't tell Rachel, but I also can't cheat on her? Dude, make up your mind." Finn tried to yank his hands away, but Puck gripped his wrists and did not let him go.

"If Rachel finds out, _everyone_ is gonna know," Puck said. "I… don't know if I can handle that." His brow was knotted, and he looked at Finn with clear appeal. Finn, perplexed, nodded, and Puck released his grip. Finn set the phone slowly down on the table.

"You really want to continue the secrets?" he said. "From all your friends? After Beth… I thought you were done with that."

"It's what I have to do," said Puck. He sat on the bed next to Finn, not too close, and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Why?"

Puck shot a look at Finn. "Why do you think? How'd'you think Jason would go over at McKinley?"

"Honestly?" Finn put a tentative hand on his back, and Puck didn't pull away. "I think he'd be pretty popular. And not just with the guys liking guys. He's confident, friendly, funny."

"The life of the party," said Puck, with a dry laugh. "You know, it took me a while to get used to being the center of attention. You, and Kurt – you're the ones getting noticed all the time. I'm pretty good at lurking in the shadows."

"Not when you're Jason, though."

"No." Puck smiled, almost fondly. "He loves the spotlight."

"The kind of guy who might get up on stage at prom and dance and sing 'Friday,' you mean?" Finn moved his hand up Puck's back. Puck shifted a little on the bed.

"Well… that was…" Puck shrugged. "Didn't count as dancing, really."

"The kind of guy who campaigns for prom king?" Finn continued. He squeezed Puck's neck.

Puck squirmed under Finn's touch. "That was because Lauren wanted – it was never about –"

"Jason would have won," said Finn, firmly. "Forget Karofsky. He would have swept it." He laughed. "And you and Kurt would've made an awesome king and queen."

Puck laughed, in spite of himself. "Fuck, yeah."

Finn slipped his arm around Puck's back and squeezed his shoulder in a half-hug, which could have been innocent if they'd had any clothes on. "I would have danced with you," he said.

Puck turned his head to find Finn's face close to his. "Oh, yeah?" he said, softly.

"Yeah," said Finn, and kissed him. Puck closed his eyes, holding still, not kissing back, and when Finn ran his hand behind his neck to pull him closer, he resisted.

"Puck's a made up person, too, you know," he said, eyes still closed. "As much as Jason is. Jason's the dancer; Puck's the bad-ass. I don't think either one is really me."

Finn hesitated, then ventured, "Is… Noah… the real one, then?"

"I guess," Puck said. "He's – he's the one who… " He opened scared, confused eyes, and shook his head.

"What?"

Puck shook his head again. Finn leaned back, considering him.

"Well," he said. "How about this? Jason's here in Dayton, right? And Puck – he's at school. So, how about… this summer, you just be Noah?"

Puck snorted. "Be Noah?" he said, derisively.

"Yeah," Finn said. "Puck – he's already different than he was at the beginning of the year. You know he is. Take the summer to figure out what parts of Puck you still want to keep, and which parts of Jason. Then once the summer's over, you can choose who you want to be at school."

Puck's eyebrows went through a series of impressive gymnastics. "Noah," he said at last, wrinkling his nose. "Huh."

"Noah dances, right?" said Finn.

"Sure," said Puck.

"And plays guitar?"

"Since he was eight," Puck nodded.

"You think he'd like me?" Finn asked quietly.

Puck let his gaze rest on Finn, to flicker down his body and back up again. He chewed on his lip. "I think he's kind of in love with you," he admitted.

"Oh," Finn said, and that was the only sound he could make, because he had no breath left in his body.

Puck smiled apologetically. "Uh. Is that okay?"

Finn groped for words, found none, and nodded instead.

"You really want to break up with Rachel to be with me?" Puck said. He sounded baffled, but pleased.

Finn kept nodding, feeling like a stupid bobble-head. Puck started to laugh, and let himself fall back on the bed, still laughing.

"What?" Finn said, grinning.

He looked up at Finn. "I don't know. I guess… after all that romancing you went through in New York, that kiss, at Nationals, I figured you and Rachel were, like, a forever thing."

"Rachel's awesome, I won't lie. And that kiss." Finn shook his head. "I don't really know what I was thinking. Rachel said being an artist is about expressing your true feelings in the moment, no matter what the consequences."

"Yeah?" Puck propped himself up on his elbows. "So… got any true feelings you want to express right now?"

Finn looked down at Puck and blew out an impressed breath. "Kind of overwhelmed, I guess. I never thought… I could have something like this with you."

"Not even after that – thing we did?" Puck looked up at him through lowered eyes.

Finn nodded. "I didn't know you liked it."

Puck laughed again. "Seriously? I thought it was pretty obvious that I liked it."

"I don't mean like that," Finn said, rolling his eyes, flushing. "I mean. You never said you wanted to do it… again. After that."

Puck nodded, slowly. "I did, though." He smiled. "At the club, there were some guys… I tried some stuff. You know, to see if I liked it. With them."

Finn frowned. "I don't really want to hear about that," he said.

"No, but the thing was, I just kept thinking about you," Puck said.

Finn swallowed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Puck nodded. "It sounds really stupid, but… all those girls I dated? I think I was just looking for…" He gestured vaguely between himself and Finn.

"Me?" Finn said, and felt a twinge of embarrassment that it came out like a squeak.

"Us," Puck said. "I wanted a best friend and a girlfriend. It never occurred to me, you know, that I could have them in one person."

"I'm not a girl," said Finn.

"No," said Puck. "I'm… I'm glad."

Finn ran a hand over Puck's knee. He caught his breath as Puck's cock responded to his touch, twitching, his balls drawing up. Puck opened his mouth and breathed a little faster. "Finn –" he said, urgently.

"Yeah," said Finn, with the same urgency, and brought his body down onto Puck's, covering his mouth with his mouth, letting each part of their body overlap, shoulders and knees and navels and cocks. Finn muffled his groans in Puck's neck, using his tongue and teeth to elicit matching groans from Puck.

"Definitely – uhh - not a girl," Puck gasped, rocking his hips up to Finn's.

"You'd have to have a boyfriend, then," said Finn, and Puck groaned again, deep and thrilling. "Would Noah… be my boyfriend? For the summer?"

Puck's eyes were open, and he didn't look afraid anymore. "And after summer? What then?"

"We decide what we want," Finn said. "Together."

Puck hesitated, opened his mouth.

Finn's phone rang.


	17. Chapter 17

(Author's note: Thanks to several hours alone and Lady Gaga's newest album on repeat, I give you: smut. Warnings for m/m sex and Finnocence. Thanks to songirl77 for the beta; I'm your biggest fan.)

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><p>Finn scrambled off Puck as Rachel's ringtone ("Don't Rain on My Parade") signaled she was responding to his earlier call.<p>

"Now that is just creepy," said Puck, not looking at Finn. "Hey, I'll, uh, go get some ice or something." He stood, rummaging around in his backpack, and came up with a t-shirt and some shorts.

"You don't have to –" Finn began, but Puck put up a hand.

"Yeah, I really do. I don't think I want to witness the carnage, even one-sided." He slipped the shorts on over his softening erection and picked up the key card from the table. Finn grabbed his hand as he was walking out the door.

"You're not –" said Finn, and stopped, abashed. "I mean… you're coming back, right?"

Puck looked at him like he was crazy. "Um, _yeah,_" he said. "You think I'd bail on you? Dude. Give me a little credit." He crushed Finn's hand in his grip, his dark eyes still full of heat, and Finn felt a little calmer. He answered the phone before Rachel could hang up, watching Puck head down the hall with the ice bucket.

"Hi, Rach," he said.

"Finn?" he heard her say. There was a crowd in the background. "Is everything okay? You sounded strange on voice mail."

"Uh, yeah," he said, a little too brightly. "How was the show? What did you guys see tonight?"

"Spring Awakening," she said. "It was amazing, but the character of Wendla was played by an understudy, and she was terrible. It was a minor disappointment in an otherwise excellent evening. Now we're sitting in Lady M having gateau aux marrons."

"Sounds great," said Finn. He had no idea how to begin, so he just did what he usually did when he had some bad news to share, and started talking. "Kurt and Puck and I, we came down to this dance club in Dayton this weekend."

"Oh? …_Oh!_" said Rachel. "Yes?" There was a pause. "Did you… you didn't break anything, did you?"

"No," Finn said, grinning. He pulled on his pants and found a clean t-shirt. "It was actually fun. I won three games of pool. Oh, I had the DJ play Single Ladies and we got everybody to dance it with us."

"That sounds frightening and wonderful at the same time," she said. "I'm proud of you, Finn."

"Something happened," he said. "I mean. Something… unexpected."

"Oh?" she said again. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Not really," he said, pacing from the bathroom, across to the balcony, and back again. "You're not going to like it. I mean, I like it. But it's not good news. That is, not good news for… you. For us."

"Finn, you're babbling. Tell me what this is about."

"It's about me. And about Puck."

"Let me talk to him."

He paused in mid-pace. "What?"

"I want to talk to Noah. Put him on."

"He's – he's not here."

"Oh, he's there. He's probably sitting outside the room in the hallway, waiting for you to open the door and tell him you're finished."

There was no way he wasn't going to check to see, so he opened the door and stuck his head outside. Puck was propped on the wall facing the door, looking the picture of calm, to someone who didn't know any better. The first knuckle of little finger of his left hand was bloody from being chewed - a nervous habit Puck had had since he was a kid. The ice bucket was empty.

"You're right," he said, impressed. "You don't have a video camera mounted somewhere, do you, Rach?"

"Finn," she said, aggravated. "Give the phone to Noah."

"Uh…" He leaned against the wall next to him and held out the phone. Puck eyed it like it was coated with anthrax. "She wants to talk to you."

Gingerly, Puck took the phone and put it to his ear. "'Sup, Berry," he said warily. He put his knuckle back in his mouth, but Finn nudged his hand away. "Yeah. I –" He looked startled, glancing up at Finn. "Yeah, he did. Didn't he tell you that?"

"I didn't tell her anything," Finn said. Puck motioned: _shut up._ Then he took Finn's hand and held it, listening. He didn't let go this time.

"Yeah… all right… I don't know if I can promise that," he said. "But I'll do my best." He squeezed Finn's hand and his face softened and – was that a _blush?_ "That's none of your business. Maybe you can come down and find out."

"What?" said Finn, and Puck dug an elbow into his ribs. "Ow."

"Yeah. Yeah, we will. See you." He handed the phone back to Finn. "Okay, your turn. Just hang on."

"Hang on to what?" Finn muttered, but the answer was evident as Puck kept the tight grip on his fingers. They were starting to turn white from lack of circulation. "Rach? What did you do to Puck? He's all red."

"Finn, don't worry." Rachel's voice was efficient and brisk. "I know how you worry about things and this is definitely not one you have to worry about. You're popular, you're a senior, and with Kurt and Dave starting the P-FLAG chapter, you'll have more allies than ever."

"What are you talking about?" he said.

"You and Noah. I must say, I've never been so happy to lose a bet."

"What bet?" He watched Puck raise an eyebrow and stifle a laugh.

"The odds were on you acknowledging your feelings for one another by August. I thought you'd wait until senior year was over, but after Blaine told us about that poster, I revised my estimate to after football season."

"Acknowledging our – how did you -?" he said, and stopped, staring at Puck, who was tugging him back into the room. "How did _you_ know? _I _didn't even know."

"Finn, honestly. _Everybody_ knew." She sounded matter-of-fact. "Mike thought it would happen this summer, so I guess he wins, though Lauren was close – she figured it would happen at prom. I think Tina might argue that Kurt skewed the odds by dragging you to the club. But this is fantastic, because now we can all go in July, on the next teen night. I can't wait to see Noah dance."

"Okay." He sank back onto the bed, feeling dizzy. "Look. Pretend I have no idea what's going on." He ignored Puck's snort. "What does Blaine have to do with this?"

"Blaine's the one who saw the poster of Noah dancing at Masque. He and Kurt made plans to bring you there in the hopes it would, you know, inspire you to realize your long suppressed feelings."

"My…" Finn swallowed. He felt vaguely betrayed. "So that's when you guys made the bet?"

"Oh, no, that's been going on since sophomore year. But the odds changed drastically once Noah took the job at Masque." She dropped to a whisper. "A positive environment and a little titillating dancing does wonders to draw young gays out of the closet."

"Rachel, I'm not – I mean, you and I were dating! You know I'm not gay."

"No one's going to force you to label yourself, Finn," she soothed. "It's your choice what words you use. What matters is you've _finally _come to terms with your feelings about Noah."

He shook his head slowly. "And you do understand what this means for us?"

"Finn. Why do you think I was so reluctant to get back together with you?" Her voice was sad, but calm. "I knew it was only a matter of time. I love you, and I always will. But this – we all could see what this was."

"What is it?" He looked at Puck, sitting across from him on the other bed.

"True love," she said. "Epic, life-changing love. Like a fairy tale. You belong together."

"How can you say that with a straight face?" he said. Puck laughed and put a hand on Finn's knee. Finn could feel the touch travel through his leg and directly to his gut.

"Tell Berry she doesn't get to watch," Puck muttered. "You're mine."

"Puck says you don't get –" He fended off Puck with one hand as he scrambled for the phone.

Rachel went on blithely. "And I must say the song I'm writing about being jilted by my boyfriend for his best guy friend? It's my most triumphant effort yet. That's songwriting material I could only dream about, Finn." She sounded satisfied and happy. Finn felt something in his chest release, and he relaxed.

"Rachel, have I told you recently how incredible you are?" he said.

"Not recently," she said, and he could hear her smile. "Keep me on speed dial so you can call me up and tell me every now and then, okay?"

"You're still my best friend," he said.

"Hey!" Puck said, kicking Finn in the ankle. Finn dodged and slid an arm around his waist.

"You'll always be my first love, Finn," she said. "I'm so glad you get to be with yours."

Puck was watching him closely with a little smile. "I guess I do," he said, feeling a thrill, and smiled back.

"Tell Puck I'm going to hold him to his promise."

"I'll tell him."

"I'd better go. My dads are about to fall asleep and we have to get a taxi back to the hotel." She sighed. "I love you, Finn."

"Love you, too, Rach," he said, and hung up, staring at the phone.

"What was that all about a bet?" Puck said, edging a little closer to Finn under the crook of his arm.

"Glee club had some kind of odds on us – getting together. Since sophomore year."

"Dang," said Puck. "Are we studs or what?" He was remarkably calm.

"Apparently clueless studs," Finn affirmed. "You hadn't heard about this?"

"Well, yeah, but you hear all kinds of things," said Puck. "I never took it seriously. You were straight."

"So were you," said Finn.

"Yeah," said Puck. "Something like that." He grabbed Finn's head, and kissed him until he couldn't breathe and his head was spinning. "And suddenly both single," he added, when they broke for air.

"Lauren knows?" Finn said.

"Lauren knew from the beginning. It was part of our agreement. The Finn clause: if, for any reason, the straight best friend decides getting into my pants is acceptable, I'm permitted to go for it."

"And does she know I'm not up for sharing?" Finn put a firm hand on Puck's shoulder and pressed him down to the bed, putting his weight on top of him.

"I was counting on it," Puck said, smiling. Then he hooked a leg behind Finn's knee, flipping him over before Finn could protest, and they tangled together, limbs and tongues connecting in every configuration possible with their clothes still on. Puck gripped him close, as tightly as he could, tighter still. Finn felt his ribs compress and the breath was forced out of him, but he didn't complain. He felt more himself than he had in forever, there in Puck's arms.

"What did you promise to Rachel?" Finn asked, flopping over onto his back, when Puck had loosened his hold.

"That I would, uh, watch out for you," he said, a little gruffly. "And that I'd never hurt you. Always… love you. You know. Chick stuff."

"Jason's okay with chick stuff," Finn pointed out. Puck thought about this.

"Yeah, I guess so," he conceded, propping himself up on one elbow. "So, does that mean you want me to call you baby and things like that?"

Finn looked at him askance. "I don't know. You get to choose. Does it seem like the sort of thing you'd want to say?"

Puck tapped a thoughtful rhythm on Finn's chest. Then, slowly, he leaned in and put his mouth up to Finn's ear. "Baby," he whispered. "How'd you like watching me dance?"

"It was hot," said Finn, squirming under the assault of hot breath on his ear.

"Did I turn you on, baby?" he went on, running his fingers under the hem of Finn's shirt and combing through the hair on his chest.

"Yeah, god, yeah." Finn felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice, leaning out, and the vertigo alone was going to take him down. "You were turning the whole club on."

"Yeah," Puck acknowledged. "But it was all for you. Always has been. Baby."

Finn felt the plosive _b's_ like little fireworks in his ear. The precipice loomed closer. He closed his eyes. "Okay, yeah, that works for me," he said, struggling to breathe.

Puck leaned back, satisfied. "Cool."

"Why didn't you tell me, man?" Finn said, shaking his head. "We could have – it would have been –"

"I wasn't ready. You weren't ready either. Hell, we were still throwing Kurt into dumpsters at the beginning of sophomore year. How were we going to deal with being like this?" He threw a leg over Finn's thigh and made a suggestive motion with his hip. This time Finn's breath came out in a laugh.

"You think we can deal with it now?" He put his hand over Puck's hip and pulled him closer. "A half hour ago you didn't think you could do it. Now you can?"

"I didn't know the whole Glee club knew about me. About us." Puck's expression was somewhat smug. "That's a lot of backup. I think we can probably do whatever we want."

"Make out in the hallway at school?" Finn said, grinning.

"Get caught in the locker room showers," Puck suggested.

Finn started to laugh. "Go to homecoming together?"

"Just for starters," Puck nodded. "I'm not known as a bad boy for nothing, right? But we can be good, too." The affection in his face made Finn's throat constrict. "So what do_ you_ want to do?"

"Mmm, I don't know." Finn brushed his lips against Puck's chin. He tried to be cool, but he knew he was doing a terrible job of hiding the excitement in his voice. "We've got all summer to think about it… but…" He saw the precipice, walked right up to it, and _jumped._ "Now, I thought I might have awesome sex with my boyfriend."

Puck groaned and buried his face in Finn's neck. "I think your boyfriend might agree to that, if you ask very nicely," he said hoarsely.

"I saw my boyfriend bought us some… items that might help with the process," Finn said. Puck turned and looked at the paper bag on the table.

"Yeah." He licked his lips, hesitated. "You should probably know that your boyfriend's never done this before. So we're kind of, you know. Flying blind."

"I'm okay with figuring it out together," said Finn. "You don't have to be good at everything, you know."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "I kind of am, though. Good. At everything."

Finn felt himself caught in the space between anticipation and fear. "Okay, that is not going to help me relax."

"What?" Puck ran a hand down Finn's chest, to his abdomen, and lower, and Finn's eyes closed of their own volition. "I want to be awesome for you."

"And how do you think I feel?" Finn said, sounding a little whiny even to himself. "I really don't want to be remembered as your worst lay ever."

"Finn. No." Puck gave him a little slap on the side of his ass. "Forget that. You are – what did Graham say? My fucking Prince Charming?"

Finn looked over at the stupid picture of birds on the wall, blushing. "I just… don't want you to be disappointed."

Puck caught Finn's chin and hauled him around to look into his face. "I told you, it's all been about you. I've just been looking for someone like you. God, for _years_. Now I've got you." He waggled Finn's chin back and forth, and Finn batted his hand away, grinning despite himself. "Seriously. How could I be disappointed?"

"Maybe I'm not as good as you think I am."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Do you _really _need me to tell you all the really embarrassing stuff? Okay, fine." He counted off on his fingers. "I jack off every morning thinking about you. No, fuck you, you wanted to hear it," he said, as Finn tried to pull away, turning scarlet. "Every morning. Since I was eleven. _Every time _you have a new date with a girl, I can't sleep. I just stay up listening to chick music on repeat and thinking about you. Lauren wanted to kick my ass at your mom's wedding because all I could do was watch you and moan about how hot you looked in that tux. And don't _get _me started on the fantasies I had when you spent the night for my thirteenth birthday. Those kept me going for _months_ afterwards." His fierce hazel eyes drilled into Finn's. "Are you starting to get the picture?"

"Okay, yeah," Finn whimpered, feeling faint. "Jesus."

"If I didn't have such a huge ego, I'd be the one feeling anxious right now," said Puck. "This is a big deal for me, too, okay?" He stroked Finn's hair back from his face with a gentle hand. "The biggest. But – you're crazy if you think I'm going to waste this night with you. We'll be okay. I'm gonna take care of it."

Finn swallowed. "What if I change my mind in the middle of… things?" The images that were still reeling through his head at the image of… _things_… seemed pretty appealing, but…

Puck shook his head, grinning. "Nobody's ever done that. Not with me. _Baby."_

"Okay, now you're just making fun of me," Finn said, and Puck cackled laughter before flattening him on the bed, their lips mashed together. Finn let himself get lost in the amazing sensation Puck's talented mouth and tongue and teeth were causing, and pretty soon they were both gasping and thrusting and groping for one another. Puck hauled Finn's shirt off, then Finn tugged Puck's shorts off, until they were naked again.

"Come here," Puck said, throwing a pillow up against the headboard. "Sit up there." He stood and snagged the paper bag and two waters from the table, and tossed one to Finn, who caught it. He stood there for a moment, looking at Finn with a strange expression.

"What?" said Finn, feeling a little exposed under Puck's scrutiny.

Puck shook his head. "Hard to believe this is really happening. It's too close to fantasies I've had before. Sometimes…" His lip twisted in a self-deprecating smile, and he crumpled the bag between his hands. "I have a hard time telling the difference between reality and made-up stuff, you know? Jason… he's pretty real, now, after one year. Puck. I've been him for three years. What else is left?"

"You don't have to worry about any of that stuff with me." Finn drank the water and set the rest down on the table. "I know who you are."

"Do you?" Puck advanced slowly toward the bed. Finn ran his eyes over Puck's tight body, his striated thighs and calves, the his broad shoulders and impressive arms, his –_ god – _his hard cock tucked up tightly against his stomach. "Can you say that for sure?"

Finn wiped off his lips, watching Puck closely. "I think so. I can tell you if there are any parts you're still hiding, I want to get to know them." He held up a hand to Puck, and tugged him down to the bed. "And they won't change the way I feel about you."

Puck knelt between his legs and took a long drink of water, looking at Finn over top of the bottle. He put the cap back on slowly and leaned down to set it beside the bed, on the floor. Then he put a moist kiss on Finn's stomach, just under his navel, and Finn gasped as his cock twitched and brushed Puck's chin.

"It wouldn't bother you if I were the kind of guy who wanted to suck your cock?" he said, wrapping a fist around Finn and squeezing. Finn moaned and jerked up into his hand.

"I was kind of going to ask you the same thing," he said, reaching down to trail fingers over Puck's thick erection, making Puck's hips buck forward.

"That is just about the best news I ever heard," Puck said, laughing breathlessly. He planted his tongue under Finn's weeping head and gave it a soft lick.

"God, that song," Finn forced out, trying to talk through the overwhelming sensation of Puck's mouth. "That 50 Cent song. For your dance. 'Let you lick the lollipop.' Jesus, what were you _thinking_?"

"Pretty much this," said Puck, and Finn couldn't look away as he opened his mouth and slipped his lips over Finn's red cock.

"Oh – oh, god," Finn cried, and his hands went up, clutching, to Puck's head, feeling the soft skin of his scalp under his fingers. Puck reached up and drew Finn's hands back down, putting them on Finn's stomach.

"Touch yourself," he said, using his tongue on the underside again, more firmly this time. "Make it feel good."

"Any better than _this?"_ Finn said, incredulously, but he obliged, running his hands over his chest, down his abdomen, his muscles tensing. Such a strange idea, that every thing Puck did could feel better than the last, but it seemed to be true. His mouth came up again, enveloped him, took him deep with such warm, tight wetness that Finn knew he wouldn't last long.

Puck rubbed his hands rhythmically down Finn's thighs, pulling the skin back at the base of his cock to make it tighter, harder. "Puck," Finn gasped. "What are you trying to do to me?" Puck's eyes met his, glancing up over his stomach, and he groaned at the clear challenge he saw there.

Puck let Finn's cock slip from his mouth, dragging Finn's right hand down and encouraging him to stroke himself. "I'm trying to make you feel better than you've ever felt in your fucking life," he said, and reached for the lube. "How'm I doing so far?"

"Pretty much already done that," Finn said. Puck's approving gaze and the way his breath was coming faster as he watched Finn jerking off in front of him made it less than embarrassing. Made it okay. More than okay, apparently.

"You really do this every morning and think about me?" Finn said.

"Every morning," Puck said, and Finn groaned, stroking faster. Puck put a restraining hand on him. "Slow down there, dude. You don't want to come yet. Trust me."

Finn watched him snap open the bottle of lube and squirt some onto his ring finger, then he nearly lost it as Puck leaned over and kissed him, hot and wet, dragging his cock over Finn's in order to reach him. Finn tasted a faint tang of bitterness on his tongue, and he thought: _I wonder if Puck tastes like that too._ The thought was not unappealing.

He made a surprised noise into Puck's mouth as he felt the sticky wetness of Puck's finger on the space below his balls. It wasn't a part of his body he thought much about from day to day, more like a functional part that had nothing at all to do with sex, so he was more than a little shocked to find himself feeling sensation inside that made him… made him want… He groaned low and pressed himself against Puck's finger, and Puck popped the first knuckle inside and spread the lube around.

"Keep it up," said Puck, panting a little, and touched Finn's fist on his cock. "Don't stop yet – oh, god." Finn had wrapped his other hand around Puck's erection, now within reach, and Puck pulled away with a curse.

"And you _really_ don't want _me _to come yet," Puck said, ripping a condom package apart with his teeth. Finn watched, interested, as Puck expertly slipped the condom in the ring of his thumb and forefinger, squeezed a drop of lube into the center, and rolled it down over his cock with two strokes. "Feels better," Puck offered, seeing Finn's curiosity. "At least – feels better with girls. I have no idea about – this."

"Are we really going to do – this?" Finn whispered.

"Yeah," said Puck. "Is it okay?"

"Everything's good so far," Finn said, as much to reassure himself as Puck. It was true. Even the strange finger in his ass was just part of the overwhelming experience.

"You have no idea how hot you look right now," Puck said, spreading more lube on his first two fingers. He stroked Finn's ass cheek, spreading him open and _pressing_, and Finn pressed right back, his hand on his cock speeding up without him meaning to, but _god, _it just felt so –

"Wait, wait, it's – ow, wait –" He wiggled a little, adjusted. "Just a second. Just a second."

"You're really hot," Puck said again, and pressed again, more gently this time. "I mean, you feel warm inside. Hot. God, Finn."

"Okay, okay, it's better now, just – _holy shit," _Finn yelped, bucking his hips off the bed. "What was that?"

"I don't know," said Puck, doing it again, and Finn stopped stroking his cock. "What? Good or bad?"

"_Good,_" said Finn, the word coming out long and dirty. "Again, please, again. Come _on, _do it."

Puck did it again, and again, and again. "I'm gonna come," Finn warned, his voice wobbly.

Puck laughed, amazed. "Just from this?" he said, doing it yet again.

"Oh my god, oh my god, _yes,_ just from that, _god,"_ he said, and arched his back up off the bed as his untouched cock throbbed and pulsed, his come pooling on his stomach.

"Hot," Puck murmured again, slipping his fingers out of Finn and quickly applying a line of lube to the head of his cock. "So fucking hot." He carefully lined up the head with Finn's body and gently pushed his hips forward.

Finn felt the pressure and rocked his pelvis forward to meet him, hissing at the feeling of being stretched yet again, but also eager for what he knew was coming. "Yeah," he said, feeling the unbelievable sensation again, deep inside. "That's – that's good. That's good."

"Not too much?" Puck said, gritting his teeth at the effort of moving slowly. Finn felt his strong legs under his ass, his arms holding his legs off the bed, and he leaned in, let Puck take some of his weight, knowing he could handle it.

"No, not too much." Finn breathed, appreciating the smooth contours of Puck's cock inside him even more than his fingers, _which, face it, had blown his mind._ He brought his hands up and ran them down Puck's thighs, down to the base of his cock, feeling the point of connection between their bodies with a shock. "God," he said. He looked up at Puck's face in a moment of panic.

"What?" Puck stopped the slow pressure forward, his eyes concerned. "Do you want me to stop? What is it?"

Finn looked at Puck, really _looked _at him, as he'd done before – _was it just yesterday?_ He remembered Puck coming into his room, leaning against the door frame, smiling slowly, remembered the clothes he'd worn, the way he'd laughed, how he'd played the guitar in the car. Then Jason flashed before his memory, grinding gently against him in the club, giggling as he said _You're adorable, Finn,_ and dancing on the pole, covered with sweat. He ran a shaking hand down Puck's chest.

"I'm just – you – " Finn was embarrassed to feel tears come to his eyes, and he blinked and looked away. "God, I'm such a –"

"Don't say it," Puck begged. "Just let yourself feel – whatever. It's okay." He carefully folded down on top of him, wrapped his arms around Finn's back, held him as the tears spilled out over his cheeks, down his jaw, into his ear. Puck kissed them, following the trace of each tear. "Baby, it's okay."

"_This,"_ said Finn, through the obnoxious tears, through the unbelievable sensation of Puck inside him, through his haze of memory. "I just – _this,_ this, is what I've always wanted. What I want. From you."

"You got it," said Puck, stroking his face. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you sure?" said Finn, mortified by how desperate he sounded. "We can have this – tomorrow, at home? It's not just tonight?"

"No, baby, I'm here, you've got me." Puck kissed him fiercely. "It's just you and me, now. From now on." He pressed his forehead against Finn's, lifted his hips, and stroked into Finn's tight ass.

Finn felt that astounding sensation inside again, and with a moan, thrust against Puck. "Yes," he said, and then he completely lost control over the words coming out of his mouth as Puck began to fuck him slowly.

"Finn," said Puck, raggedly, "I love you. I've always loved you. But this – this is unfuckingbelievable. Are you sure this is okay? Are you sure you want this from me? Because I'm going to want to do this a lot. A lot a lot."

"I think… I might have trouble wanting to do anything else," Finn ground out. "Now shut up and fuck me."

Puck made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a cry, pulled back, and slammed into him, over and over, more times than Finn could count, and it was so good, so good. Finn snaked his hand back down to his stomach, gripping his cock, and stroked in time to Puck's rhythm against him, inside him, and that was, unbelievably, a hundred times better.

"Are you going to come again?" said Puck, panting. "Cause you might want to do it soon. I'm close."

"Yeah," Finn said, speeding up. "Yeah, come on. Come for me."

"God, Finn," Puck cried, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's always for you." He lifted Finn's hips up, threw Finn's leg over his shoulder like it was a pillow, like it was nothing, and drove into him until Finn was shouting at every stroke, and the orgasm that accompanied it was nothing by comparison, just icing on the cake of every touch of Puck's body against his, his cock inside him, his lips kissing his, until they finally allowed their muscles to relax and lay in a heap together on the bed.

Finn almost didn't want to move, the sensation of Puck's sweaty, firm body on top of him was so satisfying. He squeezed him tightly with his arms and felt Puck grunt. "You okay?" he said quietly.

Puck finally did move, and there was a strange squirming feeling as he slipped free from Finn's body. "Okay," said Puck, reaching down to grab the condom before it spilled, "doesn't begin to cover it." He tied the end of the condom deftly and tossed it in the trash. "You?"

"That was the most… " said Finn, and he couldn't say more. He felt those treacherous tears beginning again, and he just shook his head.

"Yeah," said Puck. Finn had never heard him use such a tender voice, and it broke something inside him to have it be _for him._ "Yeah, it was."

Finn looked at the clock. It was 2:34 am. "What is it?" Puck asked.

"I'm just trying to think if we can cram in a little sleep before we. You know." He grinned, feeling his face turn red. "Do it again?"

Puck groaned, flopping onto the bed beside him. "You really are trying to kill me, aren't you, Hudson?" But he grabbed Finn's hand tight, and didn't let go as he pulled the sheet up over both of them. "Set the alarm for 4:00."


	18. Chapter 18

(Author's note: This went in rather a different direction than I'd expected, but I'm pretty sure our boys will figure out a way to make it work in the end. There will be three more chapters. Warnings for saccharine singing, m/m sex and general confusion. A close approximation of the version of the song that Puck sings can be heard here: http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=4OaYFlrtARE Thanks for all your great feedback.)

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><p>The sky was still pitch dark when Puck woke. For a moment he thought it was Sunday morning, and he wondered why he was up so early. <em>Whose house am I staying at this week?<em> he thought.

Then his shoulder brushed someone's arm, and he turned his head to see Finn, sleeping with his mouth open, arm thrown back over his head, snoring lightly.

Puck's face split in an incredulous smile. For a moment, he just watched him, without moving. _If he's a dream, he's a damn real one. I'll just keep it for a minute. _

Finally, he reached out a hand and, lightly, with the back of his hand, stroked Finn's shoulder, rounding out of the sheet. He could feel the heat radiating off him. There were a few freckles on the soft, light skin, and one small mole. Puck brought his lips down and kissed the mole. Finn shifted a little, but didn't wake.

The events of the night before filtered back into his brain as he lay there, propped on one arm, looking down at his… _boyfriend. _He suppressed a chuckle. _What a strange world we live in._ He didn't touch Finn any more, knowing that more sleep would lead to more interesting awake time later.

Instead he rose from the bed, crossed to the balcony, and slid open the door. It was pleasantly cool outside after the humidity of the day, and the street traffic was nearly absent at this hour. It felt delicious to be naked and outside at the same time. He leaned on the balcony rail and breathed the quiet of the city. It was his favorite time of day, though usually he hadn't hit bed yet by now.

Sometimes, after a particularly excellent night, he would have coffee at this hour, usually alone, occasionally with a friend. He liked to sit outside and feel the energy of the city waking up, all the people beginning their routines, kissing their spouses, eating their toast, diapering their babies. He would wonder if he would someday fit into the ebb and flow of the city, and if he did, what he might be doing. Maybe it would be running a club, like Brett and Graham, after his dancer's build subsided into adult bulk. Maybe he'd continue the pool cleaning business, open up a storefront. Whatever ideas he entertained, they were tempered by thoughts of his sister and his mom, and how much they needed his twice monthly checks.

This morning, for the first time, his thoughts of the future included someone else. Not just a possible, shadowy, mother-of-his-children kind of figure, or the warm body of a current girlfriend, but a real hand holding his, his best friend, sharing his coffee, his bed, his every day. He could see a brand new road leading away from Lima, maybe even to a big city, where Finn could go to college, or sing, while he danced – could try out for some shows, maybe, or take some master classes. Maybe someday open a studio. His mom would be proud of that.

He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping figure in his bed, and he smiled. It was the most curious experience, to have his two worlds cross: Finn here in Dayton, Jason and Puck together. But the fear he'd felt before was gone, and he thought, maybe, he really could do this – that he could merge his two worlds, make them one person, or at least figure out what parts of each world were worth keeping – and the rest? Well, fuck it.

Finn was right. He got to choose who he would be. There was no use in letting other people make that decision for him. Fear wasn't a good reason not to be himself. He'd never been afraid of what other people thought of him; there was no point in starting now.

He faced the balcony, sky still dark, took a deep breath, and danced the first thirty-two bars of the Bluebird solo from Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty. It had been only last week he'd seen the audition notice for the show in Dayton, and every day he changed his mind about whether it was a good idea. He knew it'd mean sacking out in friends' living rooms more than once a week, for a time, and probably skipping some school once the show got started, but for the most sought-after solo in the male ballet world, he'd deal.

Assuming he got it. He probably would. Even after over a year without regular lessons with Miss Ankundinov, he knew he was still pretty flexible, and a little review would bring his technique up to par.

And Finn – he felt a rush of heat inside his chest – he knew Finn would be proud of him, would attend every performance, no matter how long the drive. Would stand and cheer for him at the end of every night. _His number one fan._

He could see clearly in the dim light now, and crossed to the floor where his guitar was still lying out of its case. He tuned it quietly and was about to put it away, but something about Finn's sleeping form made him change his mind. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and strummed the first few bars of the song that haunted his dreams. He'd never imagined actually singing it aloud to the boy who was the source of those dreams. He still didn't ever plan to. There were some things even Jason would think was too girly. But here, in the pre-twilight, while Finn slept in the bed where they'd – _made love,_ for the first time: this was safe. Puck sang, softly, gently:

_I told him my biggest secret_

_And he told me four._

_He smiled at me and said, "That makes me love you more."_

_And then he made me laugh_

_And I knew it was a sign_

_That he was a man_

_That I wanted in my life_

_And with every passing day_

_I feel more and more of that way_

_He heals me_

_He knows the real me_

_And he accepts me, he'll never hurt me_

_He heals me_

As he rolled through the first chorus and was about to start the second verse, he was startled into silence by Finn's voice, coming from his still unmoving form. "God, that's beautiful, Puck. Who's that by? No, don't stop." Finn pulled himself onto his elbows, exhibiting adorable bedhead and rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I liked it."

"It's India Arie." Puck was glad for the dark room, because he knew his cheeks were redder than Wanda's lipstick.

"Is there more?"

"… Yeah."

"Well, come on." He sat up, his arms slung casually over his knees, and waited expectantly. "You know I love anything you play."

And, of course, he knew there was no way he would ever be able to say no. Not to Finn. He sighed, quietly, and continued:

_I can play him songs, all through the night,_

_And he will listen to every line,_

_And even when I'm wrong, he is still kind_

_He chooses his words wisely when he tells me I'm not right._

_Yes, he is a beautiful man,_

_But he is also a beautiful friend_

_He heals me_

_He knows the real me_

_And he accepts me, he never hurts me_

_He heals me_

Finn was silent and still, listening in the dark of the dawn. _Who knew how many of the lyrics penetrated that thick skull of his,_ Puck thought, but he knew the sentiment was unfair. Finn was smart, in his own way, and he got people. He got Puck. _He got me from the beginning._

He vamped for so long that Finn asked, "There's more, isn't there?"

"Yeah."

"Do I get to hear it, or should I go back to sleep?" His voice was teasing.

"Fuck you, Hudson."

"No, I think that's the _last_ verse," Finn said, and Puck was suddenly completely awake. He put his heart into singing the final lyrics, anxiety buried by anticipation.

_The moment that we met, he made me smile._

_He has so much compassion in his eyes_

_I have no idea, how long he'll be here_

_A season or a lifetime, forever or a year_

_But for the first time in my life I'm not worried about the future_

_Because we have such a wonderful time when we're together_

_However things turn out, it's all right_

_Cause he's already changed my life._

_He heals me_

_He knows the real me_

_And he accepts me, he'll never hurt me_

_He heals me_

Puck stopped playing and walked across the room to put the guitar back in its case. Finn took his hand when he came back. "That was really pretty," he said. "Why were you playing in the dark?"

"It's nighttime, genius."

Finn smiled. "You should wake me up next time. I don't want to miss it." He squeezed Puck's hand. "Any of it. I really will listen to every line."

They sat together, holding hands, for another minute. Finn cleared his throat. "Do you, uh, wonder how long I'll be around? What did it say – forever or a year?"

"A season… or a lifetime." Puck found his voice cracking on the last word, marveling at Finn's ability to zero in on the exact part that made him feel like a complete idiot.

"What do you think?" Finn said, running his hands over Puck's callused fingertips.

"How am I supposed to know?" Puck could feel Finn's touch echo inside his rib cage.

Finn was quiet for a moment. Then he reached out, with an arm and one leg, and pulled an unwilling Puck close to him. Puck resisted for a moment, but finally allowed Finn to cradle him, and, just briefly, closed his eyes and put his head on Finn's chest. He felt, more than heard, the rumble of Finn's gentle, calm voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

Puck let out his breath slowly, carefully. "College."

"You come, too." Finn squeezed a little tighter.

"Where?"

"Wherever. I'm not letting you go."

Puck felt his next breath come a little more easily, and the one after that. "That sounds… good."

They sat in the darkness, feeling the breeze from the open glass door, hearing the traffic sounds beginning below them. "How do you feel?" Puck asked. "You know."

"Yeah, I know," said Finn, amused. "A little sore, I guess."

Puck ran a hand down Finn's arm, then back up again along the underside, where the hair was baby-soft. Finn shivered. "Maybe you need more time to recover?" Puck suggested.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Finn said, emphatically. Puck chuckled.

"Well, then," said Puck. He connected his hand with his other behind Finn's neck, and hung on. "Maybe you want to try something… different?"

Finn pulled back and looked at him, startled. "Do – do you?"

"It looked pretty awesome when you were doing it." Puck paused. "Unless you don't _want_ to be, you know, on top."

Finn was silent. Puck felt his stomach tense. "I guess plenty of guys only do one or the other," he added, and Finn shook his head.

"It's not that. I just…" He made an indeterminate gesture. "I never thought that you would want… that."

"You should be able to _say_ it, Finn, if you're gonna _do_ it," Puck said, and Finn took an irritated breath.

"Okay, okay. Do you want me… on top?"

Puck felt a cold sweat break out on his bare back, and he shifted his hips a little. "In my head, I do. I've been thinking about you… doing that for a long time."

"Now who can't say it?" Finn teased.

Puck leaned his forehead against Finn's chest. "Yeah. I got it. It's just hard to trust that this is not yet another day when I'm sitting around dreaming about you fucking me."

"Puck," Finn protested, and Puck could feel him have a definite physical response to the idea. Puck dropped a hand down into his own lap and squeezed his cock. Whatever Finn was about to say was cut off, and Finn watched hungrily as Puck leaned back, closing his eyes and arching up into his own fist.

"Every morning," he said, feeling Finn's gaze even through his closed eyes. "First thing. You're always sitting facing me, straddling me, wearing that stupid Indiana Jones Lego shirt."

"I don't have that shirt anymore," Finn said, bringing his legs up and over Puck's, sitting together, so close that the skin of their inner thighs were touching. His knuckles rubbed against Puck's as he gripped his long, pale cock, and leaned in to find Puck's mouth with his.

"Well, duh, you were eleven," Puck said, flushing. He watched Finn watching him, and the feeling of deja vu was intense, after so many mornings of recreating this fantasy in his head. His fingers went around Finn's neck, and something about the texture of Finn's short hair in the spaces between his fingers made him crazy. He clutched at Finn's neck, nudging their hips closer. Their balls brushed, and Puck liked the sound Finn made so much that he did it again, mashing his hips right up against Finn's.

"Ohhhhh," Finn said, bucking forward to meet him. "God. That – feels so good. How did I live for seventeen years and totally fail to notice how much I – _god_ – like that?"

"Like what?" Puck said innocently, grinding his ass against Finn's puckered opening, and felt him clench and stammer out his approval. "Oh, _that."_ He grinned, flashing a wicked eyebrow at Finn. "Well, we've established that you're pretty clueless, huh, Hudson?"

"And why is it so hot when you call me _that_… when we're doing _this?"_ Finn exclaimed, and Puck laughed. He kissed him again, their teeth knocking, Puck thanking every available deity for his dancer-induced flexibility and for Finn's long limbs, that allowed them to still be able to sit this way. He strained forward to get his tongue a little deeper into Finn's mouth.

"I'll tell you a secret," he said. He stilled Finn's hand, then switched them, so he was stroking Finn's cock and Finn's fingers were on his. Finn gamely continued stroking. "But you have to promise me not to be pissed at me."

"Yeah, sure, anything," Finn said, trying to kiss him again, but Puck pulled back, touching his lips with one finger.

"I… I took your t-shirt."

"What?"

"The Indiana Jones one. I stole it from your room, a couple of months after that."

"Why?"

Puck shook his head, avoiding Finn's curious stare. "I wanted to… remember. To have it. Just..." He hid his face in Finn's shoulder, feeling even more mortified than he'd been when Finn had caught him singing. Finn stroked his back lightly. "I wanted to remember that we'd really done… that. Even if it was only that one time."

"Well, now it's, what, those three times?" He could feel Finn's lips smiling against his neck as he kissed him there. "And I'm guessing there'll be more. Lots more."

"Yeah," Puck said, still shaking his head, and smiled back, so hard his cheeks ached.

"So, what, do you have the shirt around when you're doing this?" Finn said, starting "this" up again with a sharp intake of breath.

"No, it's… I've got it somewhere safe." Puck was _not_ going to tell him where he kept it, _or_ how often he looked at it, or _anything _about touching it to his skin.

"You haven't developed, like, an Indiana Jones fetish or something?"

"Fuck you!"

"Maybe I could put the shirt on next time we – "

"Finn," Puck growled. "Shut the fuck up."

"Or I could get one of those brown hats, you know, like he wears –"

Puck's legs came up and he effortlessly pinned Finn on the bed, ignoring his protests. He grabbed each of Finn's wrists and forced him flat, trapping his arms on either side of his head. "You are just a big ball of trouble," he said, right into Finn's mouth. "Now be quiet. This is my fantasy and you are _not_ supposed to be talking."

Finn shifted his arms behind his neck, propping himself up on his hands, and grinned triumphantly up at Puck. "Whatever you want," he said. "Baby."

"Are you _posing_ for me?" Puck glared at him, moving to straddle his chest, and stroked his cock faster as the sight of Finn's wide, heartstopping smile.

"Yeah," Finn admitted, arching his chest up and closing his eyes in a decadent, sensual stretch. Puck felt a surge of lust that caught him off guard. He groaned, grinding down onto Finn, like he was the pole in his dance.

"Things are going to get really messy soon if you keep doing that," Puck warned him, and Finn's eyes opened, flickering to Puck's hand, pumping inches from his face. He licked his lips, making Puck groan again.

"How does your fantasy end?" asked Finn. "Is that the same every time, too?"

"Yeah," Puck whispered. "You know how it ends."

"Is that what you want?"

"Another time, definitely." _On my bed, at home,_ he didn't say. "Right now, I think there are other things I'd rather do." He reached over and snagged the lube from the table next to the bed, and, grabbing Finn's hips, flipped them over, landing on the bed with Finn on top of him.

"God, you are really strong, you know that?" Finn said, with admiration. Puck was embarrassed by how much he enjoyed hearing him say that.

"I just like throwing you around," Puck grinned. He opened the tube and paused. "Do you want me to do this part?" He gestured vaguely down at himself.

"No!" Finn gave him a strange look. "What, do you think I'd be grossed out or something?"

"I don't know," Puck shrugged, taking Finn's hand in his. In a strange way, spreading a line of lube on Finn's finger felt more intimate than just about anything else they'd done. Finn didn't look away from his face as he brought his hand down, below Puck's throbbing cock, and felt for the opening there. Puck tried to relax, to push back against Finn's long finger, but he didn't expect Finn to groan and twist against him, like it was already his cock entering him. "What?"

"You – it's –" Finn said, shaking his head. "I can't tell you."

"What?" Puck asked again, more gently.

"You're just – incredibly gorgeous." Even in the grey light of early morning, Puck could see Finn's cheeks turn red, but he held Puck's gaze. Puck felt exposed, laid bare by the adoring expression on Finn's face. Then Finn probed with his finger and groaned again.

Puck reached for a condom, quickly ripped it open and slipped it over Finn's cock. He could feel how hard he was. Puck squirted more lube into his fist and pumped it over the latex, giving him a squeeze.

"This is really turning you on," Puck said, and he knew better than to tease Finn for it. Finn nodded, eyes wide and dark. Puck arched up into his hand, twisting his hips to take his finger deeper, and Finn gasped. "Come on. You gonna give it to me or what?"

"Are you ready?" Finn said, hesitating.

"Yes," snapped Puck.

Finn shuddered and slipped out his finger. "Just – like this?" he said, still uncertain.

"Fuck, Hudson," he said, exasperated. "Do I need to spell it out? _Yes._ Yes, I'm ready. I've been ready for six years. I've been waiting for you to wake up and want me again and finally put your cock inside me. What are you fucking waiting for?"

"God," Finn moaned, as Puck reached up and guided his cock down to nudge against his twitching ass. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"Did it hurt you when I did it?"

"Well, no," said Finn.

Puck grinned. "See? And _I'm_ bigger than you." He spread his strong legs wider and pulled Finn's hips into his. "That's it. Just – a little lower. Yeah," he sighed, feeling Finn push past the first tight ring of muscle. "Keep it coming, baby. That's it."

"You're so _hot,"_ Finn whimpered, maintaining slow, steady pressure.

"I told you, right?" Puck smiled encouragement. "You feel great, just don't stop, don't stop." He tugged on Finn's hand, pulling him down onto his chest. "C'mere."

Finn tentatively brought his weight down on Puck, and Puck leaned into Finn's questing hips, lifting himself up until he was almost in Finn lap. There was a blast of intense sensation, and Puck choked off a cry. "Holy –" He lifted his hips again, trying to recreate the sensation, but couldn't figure out what Finn had done. "Something…"

"Yeah, you felt it?" Finn said, nodding. "Let me –" He pulled back a little, gave an experimental thrust, and they both made noises of surprise and need. "Was that good?" Finn asked, unnecessarily.

"Uh. Yeah. Good," Puck said, feeling somewhat beyond speech. "You?"

Finn thrust again, then paused, breathing evenly in and out. "I'm trying – don't want it to be over too soon, but you feel – so tight, and – god," and thrust again, harder this time.

Puck felt the sensation explode across his consciousness, almost too intense, but compelling, and he found himself thrusting back with increasing desperation, needing to feel it again. When Finn hit it again, he grabbed his hips and maintained the angle, gasping, "Yeah, that's right, baby – do me, just like that," and Finn obliged, holding him up, sliding into him and making his brain explode over and over again.

"Is that good?" Finn said again, and Puck just nodded, making noises without words. "Do you want me to…?" Puck realized with a shock he hadn't touched his cock in five minutes, that it had completely slipped his mind, but when he nodded again, Finn wrapped his hand around it and stroked firmly. "I want it to be good," he said, panting with effort and passion. "I want to give you what you give me."

"You do, you are," Puck groaned, "so much. Just… _don't stop."_

Finn echoed his groan and bent his head to focus on the motion of his hips, and Puck felt the insanity of intense alternating sensations, thrusting and being thrust into, for a few eternal moments. Then his strokes became erratic, and he heard Finn's breath growing ragged, and he let himself fall into that world of possibility, the one where it wasn't a fantasy anymore, that Finn _actually_ loved him, could _actually _be willing to be loved back, and that maybe, just maybe it wasn't going to be gone tomorrow – that there would be another day together, and another, and another after that.

"Finn," he said, as steadily as he could, "you're really here, right?"

"What?" The confusion on Finn's lust-suffused face was almost comical, but Puck didn't laugh.

"This is really happening?" Puck felt the pressure start to build, the sensation to crest, and he knew in a panic that, pretty soon, it would be over. _ It couldn't be over yet,_ he thought wildly. He grabbed desperately for Finn's hand, braced on the bed, and almost knocked them both flat. "Please," he said, "just tell me. It's real, isn't it? It's okay if this is the only time, just tell me – I need to know it was real. Even if it was just this once."

"No," Finn said, and Puck almost lost it before he continued, "no, don't say that, of course it won't be just this once. We've got all summer together. I'm –" He stopped moving, leaned over Puck onto his elbows, gripped his face in both hands and kissed him breathless. "I'm really here, with you. This is real. And it'll be real tomorrow, and – and for as long as you'll have me."

"That's kind of a long time," Puck said, in a small voice he hardly recognized.

"Yeah," Finn agreed, shaking. "Yeah, it kind of is."

Puck waited for Finn to stop holding him, to back away, to end the moment, but he didn't, and he still didn't, and continued even when he was sure Finn couldn't possibly bear it any longer. Finally he said, "Look, you're going to have to come sometime."

"I'm not going anywhere," Finn said. "Not until you're okay."

"You can't be serious," Puck said.

Finn nudged him with his hips, and Puck felt an echo of sensation. "You tell me you trust it's real."

Puck tried to say something, but he realized he couldn't lie to Finn again. "I don't," he admitted.

"Okay," said Finn. "Hang on; this is going to feel a little weird." He pulled out of Puck, awkwardly unrolling the condom and tossing it into the trash. Puck felt sore and oddly incomplete, but he watched Finn in silence as he straightened the covers and lay down on the bed. "Come here." Finn opened his arms.

"Finn, you're right; this _is_ weird," Puck said, uncomfortably.

"No, you're freaking out about something. If there's something I learned from Rachel, it's that we need to deal with stuff right away or else it'll stick around and… and pollute everything, make it awful. Come here." He took Puck by the shoulder and made him lay down next to him, in the circle of his arm. Puck lay awkwardly on the bed for a few moments before putting his head on Finn's bicep, like a pillow.

"Girls are softer," he muttered.

"Yep," said Finn. "Still not a girl. Talk. What's up?"

Puck didn't say anything for a few minutes. Finn lay beside him patiently, not pushing him, not looking at him, just being there.

"Um," Puck said, finally. "I guess… when we started this evening, when it was just one night, I knew how to handle it. Jason... I can do Jason. Every week, I can do it. And if it meant that I wouldn't really have you, well, at least I would have you this once, and I could pretend that it was…" He stopped, resolutely not crying.

"Take your time," Finn said softly. He put his other arm around Puck's waist, encircling him in a loose embrace.

"Okay," he said after a while, sniffing. "So then you said… what you wanted. And I said…"

"You said you couldn't do it."

"Yeah."

"And then you said you could."

"… Yeah." He sniffed again.

"And now you're saying you can't?" Finn sounded calm and sad.

"No!" He raised up on his elbow and looked down at Finn. "No, I'm saying – I'm saying I was still being someone else – still pretending. I didn't realize – but I guess I was."

"Who were you being?" Now Finn was curious.

"It could have been Jason. He's all about having a good time. But it was Puck, I guess. Puck's… well, he's the one who's awesome in bed." He looked sheepish.

"Yeah, he is," Finn agreed. "So what happened?"

Puck thought for a minute. "Puck doesn't get to keep the girl," he said. "Um, I mean, or the guy? You know." Finn nodded, and he went on. "I guess I just realized that if Puck was here with you, he was gonna… say goodbye. Not call back. And this was going to be the end." He took a deep breath. "And I don't want that to happen."

"Why wouldn't he call back? Why would he say goodbye?"

"That's what Puck does," he explained, impatiently.

"Why?"

"Puck's a jerk," he said, a little angrily.

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Hudson," Puck snapped.

"Just tell me," Finn said. "Why be a jerk? Why choose that?"

"Because it's a lot easier to leave somebody than to get left," Puck shouted.

Puck's angry breathing was the only sound for a moment. Finn sighed. "You think I'm not really planning to stick around," he said.

"Not with a jerk," Puck agreed. "No matter how good in bed he is."

"Okay," Finn said, calmly. Then he put a hand on Puck's chest. "That... what we just did. The sex. It was awesome, you're right. But, you know, I'd really rather be doing… that… with Noah."

"Noah?" Puck, startled, put his knuckle into his mouth and chewed. "I don't know why you would. Noah has no idea what he's doing."

"That may be true," said Finn. "But you said yourself: Noah's the one who's kind of in love with me." Finn rolled Puck's stiff form closer to him, hugging him. "And I'm definitely in love with him."

"With Noah?" Puck felt a strange calm.

"With Puck, with Jason. With Noah. With you, doofus." He gave Puck a gentle noogie, and Puck only half-protested. "All of you."

"I don't know if I can be all of me," Puck admitted. "I'm not sure if I know how. I'm… I'm going to try, though."

"That's good," Finn said. He kissed Puck then, and it was gentle and completely undemanding, a no-strings kiss, just kissing for the sake of kissing. Puck wasn't sure what to do with it.

"Let's get some more sleep," said Finn, yawning. The clock read 5:20. He reached over and set the alarm for 8. "I bet things will look different in the daylight."

_That's what I'm afraid of,_ Puck thought, but he only said, "You're really going to go to sleep without coming?"

"Think of this as foreplay," Finn said, smiling. "It just gets better the longer you wait, right?"

"I'm terrible at waiting," Puck grumbled.

"Go to sleep, Noah."

Puck felt a warm sensation bloom inside him at the sound of that name. It had been years since Finn, or anyone, had called him that. It wasn't unpleasant. He closed his eyes. Then he opened them again as he felt Finn fold his arms around him from behind, then tuck one leg around him, pulling him close.

"Finn, are you… _snuggling_ with me?"

"Yeah." Finn sounded nearly comatose. "'s more foreplay. Sleep now."

Puck lay asleep and listened to Finn's breathing slow and even out. The city was still dark. He wondered who would be in bed with him when the morning came. He wondered who he would be, himself. It was a long time before he slept.


	19. Chapter 19

(Author's note: Please, just kill me now. I should never write fiction while in love. Warnings for extreme sappiness, singing AND fucking dancing. Oh, and sex. M/M sex. Lots of it.)

* * *

><p>Finn woke with a start when the alarm went off. He almost never needed the alarm to wake up anymore, but clearly this had been an unusual night. <em>The most unusual one in a long time,<em> he thought. _Possibly the most unusual night of my life._

He turned to look for Puck, but the bed was empty. For a brief minute, he panicked. But then he saw the clothes on the floor, the backpack in the corner, Puck's wallet on the table, and he calmed himself. _He wouldn't leave like that. He just wouldn't. No matter what he's decided he can handle. He's still my friend. _

Finn saw a flicker of movement behind the balcony curtain, which was drawn. He pulled on his grey boxer briefs and stood, feeling a little dizzy from lack of sleep and the aftermath of four beers, and went to the balcony to peek out, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the hazy morning.

Puck was on the balcony, wearing only shorts – _no, wait, was it Jason?_ He was dancing, but it definitely wasn't sexy pole dancing. It looked like ballet, as much as Finn knew about dance. He had his arms out gracefully, toes pointed, leapt into the air, doing a complicated motion with his feet, then leapt and twirled around several times, landing gently. Finn knew the strength it must take to complete such movements, but Puck made it look effortless. His face was alive with concentration. Finn watched him for a few minutes, smiling.

"Nice," he said, and Puck turned, surprised.

"Thanks," said Puck, panting a little. He took a towel off the chair and patted off his sweaty forehead and neck.

"It's been a while since you danced like that," Finn said. He tried to be subtle about the way he was admiring the sun on Puck's shoulders, but he couldn't tell if he was succeeding.

"Actually, I took a ballet masters class earlier this year," he said. He drank half a bottle of water and passed the rest to Finn. "It was just before regionals. After I got back from juvie, I decided I really needed something nice to look forward to, so I signed up for this weekend class. It was awesome. The instructor was a friend of my old teacher. He's an old Russian guy, totally crazy, but talented. I forgot how much I liked ballet."

"That's so cool," Finn said, grinning, taking a swallow of water.

Puck looked sideways at him. "I was, um, thinking about auditioning for a part. They're doing Sleeping Beauty at the Schuster Center in Dayton this November. It's kind of a big deal solo for guys."

"Really?" Finn felt a thrill of excitement. "Wow, that would be great! When's the audition?"

"Next week. If I can get it, it would look really good on a resume."

"Or a college application," Finn pointed out. "OSU has a major in dance."

Puck shook his head, smiling. "My grades are in the toilet. That, plus juvie time? I doubt I could get in."

Finn shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to try." He put out a tentative hand, and Puck met it, clasped it, and Finn pulled him into a hug.

He felt Puck's breathing change as their bodies touched, but otherwise Finn kept it chaste, brotherly. Finn gripped him tightly around his muscled back. "You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured.

"I know that _you_ think so," Puck said, looking up at him. "Now if we can just get the casting director to agree with you. It'd mean more time away from home, though."

"You okay with that?"

"Well," he said, and stopped, flushing. "I… I hear having a boyfriend takes time and effort. You know – going out on dates and all that."

Finn grinned, feeling an equal mixture of relief and excitement. "You have a good situation, though. Because your boyfriend is turning eighteen really soon." He laughed. "And, surprisingly, he really likes to dance. So I'm guessing he'll be following you down to Dayton every weekend for a while."

Puck's amazement was palpable. "Really?" he said. "You want to do that?"

"If my parents will let me," he amended. "First I'm going to need to get them used to the idea that I _have_ a boyfriend. Then we'll see what they let me do with you."

If the concept of having a companion on the weekends was a shock to Puck, it was nothing compared to what he'd just suggested. "You're gonna… come out to Burt and Carole?"

"Yeah," he said, and hesitated. "But, you know, I should probably know my boyfriend's name before I introduce him to my parents."

"Oh," Puck said. He sat down slowly on the bed. Finn sat next to him, as close as he dared without seeming too pushy. He could feel an electrical current between them wherever they brushed against each other, but he firmly set it aside and focused on Puck's words.

"This morning," he said, and stopped. He gestured to the balcony. "Um, when I was going through the routine. I was trying to – put down Jason, and Puck, and just be whatever was… left. Just to see how that felt."

Finn nodded. "And?" he prompted after a moment.

Puck looked out into the middle distance, and his lips curved up in a faint smile. It made Finn melt a little inside to see it. "It was good," he said at last. "I felt – clear. Open. It was a surprise. I think it helped me be a better dancer."

"How about that," Finn said. He put a hand on Puck's leg. "And – what about with me? Do you want to try the same thing?"

Puck's gaze dropped to his lap. "I could tell, last night at the club, you liked Jason. And – in bed, you liked Puck. If I'm not either of _those_ guys… I'm not sure if whatever's left is going to be enough for you."

"I liked what I saw on the balcony," Finn said. "I mean, I don't know what the heck to look for, when it comes to dancing, but you – you were happy." He nudged Puck's arm. "I like it when you're happy. You don't have to perform for me. You don't have to _be_ anything. Just you. That's what I want."

"You won't… well." Puck shrugged. "I bet you'll get bored."

Finn shook his head, smiling. "No. Not bored." He intertwined his fingers with Puck's, feeling the rightness of it, and rested his head on Puck's. "I love you."

Finn felt him tense, then, quickly, he squeezed Finn's hand. "Love you too, Finn," he whispered.

"So." He squeezed back. "You've been Puck since seventh grade. Is that still working for you? Is that who I'll be dating?"

Puck snorted. "Dating Finn Hudson. Fucking unbelievable." But he relaxed against Finn and considered the question. "I don't know. I don't know if I can drop being the jerk if you call me that. Can – do you think it would sound completely lame to go back to calling me Noah?"

"I don't think so," Finn said. "People choose new names all the time. Remember when David decided he wanted people to call him DJ, last year? It was no big deal."

Puck nodded soberly. "This would be, though. A big deal. It's not like I'm putting on a suit; it's like I'm taking them all off. Like walking around naked."

Finn rubbed his cheek on Puck's bristly hair. "Nobody needs to know that except us, if you don't want them to. It can be personal. Not a secret, exactly, just… private." He kissed Puck's head, just above his ear. Puck tipped his head back a little, and Finn took the cue to keep going, kissing his neck, the space under his earlobe. He opened his mouth and murmured, "Noah."

A sound came out of Puck's – out of _Noah's_ – mouth. He turned his head, searching, and found Finn's lips with his. "I'm here," he said, sounding amazed. "We're here, together."

"Yes," said Finn, and hugged him tight.

"It doesn't bother you that I'd still have to be Jason on the weekends?" Noah said, into his chest.

"No," he said. "That's like your stage name, right?"

Noah laughed. "Uh, it's a little more than that. But I think, if you can deal with Jason on Saturday nights, I can be Noah the rest of the weekend. If you're with me."

Finn felt an overwhelming sense of anticipation. "Wow. A whole summer of weekends with you. And to think I was wondering how we'd ever be able to do this again." He placed a hand on Noah's stomach, feeling them both respond, and kissed him, more passionately this time.

Noah's kissing was wholly unlike Jason's or Puck's. It was less expert, more tentative – and drove Finn wild with desire. He opened his mouth to Noah's tongue, feeling the give and take of their connection, loving it, loving him, with such exquisite tenderness, he could hardly bear it. "God… Noah," he groaned.

"It's okay?" he said, lips soft against Finn's.

"More than okay," Finn said. "It's _you_. God." He shook his head, and frustrated anger surged through him. "I was so stupid for so long."

"Don't say that," Noah protested.

"No, seriously," Finn said. "I really _did _like… what we did, back then. I just thought, well, we're guys, we're supposed to go with girls. That – it didn't count, somehow. And why didn't I realize how much _better_ it was with you, than with those girls? Even with – well." He didn't want to be unfair to either Rachel or Quinn. "Anybody." He touched Noah's jaw. "I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out."

Noah swallowed, blinking. "You're here now," he said.

"Yeah," said Finn. "And while I'm at it, can I just say I – I'm sorry I haven't been a very good friend this year. Hang on, please, just let me say this," he begged, as Noah tried to interrupt. "When I found out about – about Beth, I was so pissed at you, and at Quinn. But I was more pissed at myself, for being so clueless, to allow myself to be fooled like that."

He sighed, dropping his hands into his lap. "I think maybe I did know it all along, and I didn't want to admit it to myself. I wanted that baby… to be mine. I wanted Quinn to need me like that, to let me take care of things. Instead, I just ended up a sucker. She used me, and I went along with it. And I kept hanging on to that feeling of being pissed because it was _so_ much easier than admitting to myself how much… I missed you."

Finn looked around the hotel room with impotent anger. "And you - you were doing _this,_ every weekend, working your ass off. You must have been so _fucking _lonely, Noah. You needed a friend, and I just wasn't there." He grabbed for Noah's hands and squeezed them tight. "I'm sorry for that, most of all."

Noah was silent under this barrage of words. He closed his eyes when Finn was done. "It was… funny, being Jason," he said finally. "I had all the friends I could have wanted. But none of them knew who I really was. Some of them… they've been so great. They've taken good care of me. Graham and Brett - you have no idea.

"And I – I was just lying to all of them. Went on lying, just like I did about Beth with you, because I felt like I had to." He chewed on his knuckle. "Because I needed the money, I justified it. Lying to you, to everyone. I don't… I don't know if I can do it, anymore. Even if it means losing my job."

"But Graham, he knows," Finn said, and stopped.

Noah looked at him, quirked an eyebrow. "Knows… what?"

"He… uh, he knows you're in high school." Finn bit his lip. "With me. With us, me and Kurt. He said Brett knows, too. He said… sometimes lies are important."

"… Huh," said Noah, wrinkling his brow. He looked at Finn, completely baffled. "They could lose their license, if anyone else found out. Why the hell would they risk that?"

Finn shook his head, smiling. "That's easy. They care about you. It's obvious."

"Oh, and you're a master of spotting the obvious, Hudson?" Noah said, giving him a little poke on the chest. Finn trapped his hand and held it to his heart, not letting go, even when Noah struggled a little. He gave him an aggravated look, but Finn hung on.

"It's obvious now that I know what I'm looking for, Noah." Finn watched him react to the name, and knew it would take a while before it became familiar again. "You told me yesterday you would give me a private dance. I'd really like to have one now, before we go."

"You… you want Jason to dance for you?" Noah looked uncertain, but Finn shook his head.

"No, I want _you…_ to dance _with_ me." Finn took the hand from his chest and held it in one hand, like Kurt had taught him. He pulled him up from the bed and put Noah's other hand on his shoulder, and he laid his hand on Noah's waist.

"Like this?" Noah started laughing. "Should I read something into why I have to be the girl?"

"Um, you can read that I don't know how to dance any other way," Finn grinned.

Noah stepped deftly away as Finn made a wrong move, and he nudged him into a wider stance, straightening his back. "Kinda hard to dance with no music."

Finn cocked his head, considering. "Well, okay. You sang for me. I guess I owe you one." He took a deep breath, and under Noah's startled scrutiny, began, softly at first, then gaining courage:

_You're looking fine tonight,_

_and every guy has got you in his sights._

_What you're doing with a clown like me,_

_is surely one of life's little mysteries_

_So tonight I'll ask the stars above,_

_How did I ever win your love?_

_What did I do, what did I say,_

_to turn your angel eyes my way?_

Noah started blushing around the third line, and the blush spread down his neck and onto his chest. By the time Finn finished the chorus he couldn't even maintain eye contact with him. "God, Finn," he muttered, looking past him at the wall, but Finn just smiled and went on singing.

_Well, I'm the guy who never learned to dance,_

_never even got one second glance_

_Across a crowded room was close enough,_

_I could look but I could never touch_

_So tonight I'll ask the stars above,_

_How did I ever win your love?_

_What did I do, what did I say,_

_to turn your angel eyes my way?_

Finn wasn't sure when had done it, but his hands had shifted so both were resting on Noah's hips. Noah's hands were clasped around his neck, and though he was still poised and straight, his hips shifted a little, leaning in to Finn. Finn dropped his hands down to Noah's lower back, and, finding no objection, lower still to cup his ass. Noah sighed and stepped in closer as they continued their dance, and Finn sang the bridge quietly into his ear:

_Don't anyone wake me, if it's just a dream_

_'Cause you're the best thing ever happened to me_

_All you fellows, you can look all you like,_

_but this one you see, he's leaving here with me tonight_

"Every night, baby," Noah said, and Finn stopped dancing to clutch him close, making him stagger. "You got me."

"There's one more verse," Finn said, unsteadily. "Then I'm going to take you back to that bed over there, and we're going to finish what we started last night. Just Finn and Noah. Okay?"

Noah stopped moving, for what seemed to Finn for an unusually long time. Then he took a hitching breath. "Yeah," he said. "I want that. Go ahead – I'm listening." He laid his head on Finn's chest, and Finn nearly couldn't go on, it felt so unbelievably good to hold him, standing there, in his arms. Finally, he was able to take a deep enough breath to continue singing the last verse:

_There's just one more thing that I need to know,_

_if this is love why does it scare me so?_

_It must be something only you can see,_

_'cause, man, I feel it when you look at me_

And his voice broke on the final chorus as Noah joined in with unexpected harmony:

_So tonight I'll ask the stars above,_

_How did I ever win your love?_

_What did I do, what did I say,_

_to turn your angel eyes my way?_

Finn wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. "I'm such a sap. That was…"

"Yeah, it was," agreed Noah. "And yeah, you are." He tugged Finn's head down for a kiss. "And, fuck me, but I love you for it."

He laughed brokenly against Noah's lips. "I was kind of hoping you'd be the one to do that."

"Do what?"

Finn caught Noah's gaze and held it. "Fuck me."

Noah's hips came up against Finn's of their own accord, and he groaned. "How do guys decide who's going to do what, anyway? Am I expected to flip you for it or something?"

"Is… would it be okay with you?" Finn said, hesitating. "I know we didn't really finish… with you, but I really… I want it." He closed his eyes. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I feel like I need it."

"I understand," Noah said, running his hands over Finn's shoulders. "I was there, remember? What was it, six hours ago? I felt like I never wanted to do anything else with you again." He drew his hands down along Finn's back, and Finn felt the tension drawing tight like a knot in the base of his spine. There was a twinge inside, a subtle echo of the feeling he'd had with Noah inside him, and he thrust forward with a little gasp.

"Yeah," Finn said. "That's what I want." He slid his hands inside Noah's shorts and dropped them to the floor, then brought his hands back up along his hips, reveling in his sleek strength. "You are unbelievably sexy," he added, shyly.

Noah gave him a dubious look, but he returned the favor by helping Finn out of his underwear. Then he gently pushed him onto the bed and lay his body down on top of Finn's. "I'm not feeling like anything special," he admitted. "I'm not the hot club dancer or the bad-ass. You're just getting the ordinary guy."

"That's who I'm talking about," Finn insisted, tangling his legs with Noah's. "That's the guy I've been missing spending time with. That's the guy who's turning me on right now. Don't you feel it?" He pressed his hips up, sliding his hard cock into the slick hollow of Noah's hip. They both moaned at the sensation, and Noah clutched Finn's ass to increase the pressure between them.

"I feel it," Noah said, thrusting against him. "I feel it. You – you feel just how I imagined you'd feel. God, I've wanted you so much."

"I'm here," Finn said, and he slid one hand down between their legs, stroking fingers over each erection in turn, then gripping them together, mashing them in his fist. They moaned together again, thrusting into the tightness.

"I want to be inside you," Noah whispered, and fumbled for a condom and the lube on the table. As he slid up Finn's body to reach, Finn found Noah's cock waving distractingly close to his face. He slithered down the bed on his back to position himself correctly, and then, without warning, took Noah into his mouth.

"Shit," Noah hissed, his arm buckling under him, sending him crashing to the bed. Finn followed, exclaiming at the impact, but resuming right where he left off, propping Noah's leg up for better access. "Oh, god, Finn," he cried helplessly, "your _mouth,_ your fucking _mouth."_

Finn tried to remember all the things he'd loved about the way Noah had sucked his cock, the only time anyone had ever done that for him. He tried not to feel self-conscious about his lack of skill, but to just lose himself in the experience, just as he'd done while dancing at the club. Judging by the noises Noah was making, he wasn't doing too badly.

"Stop. Finn, _stop." _Noah put one hand on his head, and Finn let Noah slide from his mouth. Noah shook his head at his stricken look. "You didn't… do anything wrong. I'm just… I'm not going to last if you do that. And I really want to give you… what you asked for. Okay?"

"You're going to let me do that another time?" Finn said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and Noah nodded, emphatically.

"Yes, absolutely, yes." Noah ripped the condom wrapper open, not bothering with extra lube, and thrust it onto his cock. Finn watched avidly as he spread a generous amount of lube on the palm of his hand and gave himself a couple of strokes. "You can bet I'll be wanting you to do that _any time_."

"Maybe in between classes?" Finn suggested, noticing Noah's cock swell perceptibly larger at the idea. "I bet we could do it in the guy's john by the choir room, you know, the one nobody uses…"

"God, Finn, what are you _doing _to me?" Noah moaned. He put a slick finger between the cheeks of Finn's ass and rubbed, not particularly gently, and Finn thrust against him, forcing the finger inside.

"I thought I was having great sex with my boyfriend, remember?" he said. "More. Come _on." _Finn got up on all fours, spreading his legs wider.

"Like that?" Noah's breathing quickened, but he paused to add another squirt of lube to his fingers before clambering to his knees behind Finn and slipping two fingers into him. Finn cried out, feeling the stretch, and Noah faltered. "Too much?"

"No, no, please, that's it, that's good," Finn said, babbling in his haste to get _on_ with it. He reached back and grabbed Noah's hand, and forcibly pressed it against his ass, hard. Noah gave a surprised exclamation, and responded with more pressure even as he reached around Finn's stomach to let Finn thrust his cock into his other fist. "Oh, _god,_ Noah, that's _really_ good. You have no idea."

"I think I have some idea," Noah said, and Finn could hear him smiling. He slid the two fingers out, over Finn's protest, and tucked his hips up against Finn's ass. "I have to tell you, hearing you call me Noah, when I'm touching your dick?" He positioned the head of his cock and pushed forward with steady pressure. "Super hot."

"Ohhhhh," Finn moaned, overwhelmed by sensation from all sides. He collapsed forward on his forearms, and looked back over his shoulder to see Noah leaning over him with a wholly tender expression. It made his throat constrict. He put one hand between his legs and nudged Noah's hand away from his cock. "Let me."

"What do you want?" Noah asked, straightening up and putting both hands on Finn's hips.

"Go – slow," Finn said, and moaned again as Noah pulled out and stroked into him. "Okay, yeah - you feel so good, just like that." He ground back against him, remembering their dance yesterday in the club, and he knew that kind of dancing would never feel the same, that he would never be able to do that again without getting hard.

"You look so fucking amazing," Noah said, his breath coming in erratic pants. He ran a strong hand up Finn's spine and back down again, then gripped his ass more firmly and thrust into him harder. "I love this, with you."

Finn nodded, matching Noah's strokes with his hips. "Tell me… tell me, how does your fantasy end?"

"You know," Noah said softly. "You remember."

"Yeah," said Finn, arching his back, feeling the gathering tension inside with each thrust. "I just want to hear you say it."

The noise he made was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. "Finn," he said.

"Come on," said Finn. "We're on the bed, legs around each other, touching; I'm wearing that stupid shirt. Then what?"

This time it was definitely a sigh. "You put your other hand on my heart."

He felt a jolt of memory, even as their pace speeded up. He breathed into the increasing intensity. "Yeah. And you put your hand on _my _heart."

"And… we kiss, for the first time."

"Your lips are so soft."

Noah dug his fingers into Finn's skin. "And we make a pr-promise."

Finn blinked as his vision swam. "Say it."

"Finn," Noah said again, pleading. "You're not really gonna make me do this–"

"You remember it?"

"God, of course I –"

"Then say it."

Noah took a deep breath and let it out. "My brother, always," he said, through gritted teeth. "My friend, always. My heart, my life." The last word came out in a sob, and Finn said it with him. "Always."

For a moment, Finn thought Noah might stop, might pull away, but then he began an onslaught of thrusts, and with every impact Finn could hear him whispering, "—_always – always –" _

The intensity was almost too great, but Finn made himself feel it, let himself go, lean in, thinking, _this is Noah – at last –_ and with a wringing cry, he came, covering the sheets with sticky streams. And moments later, Noah gasped, "_Finn –"_ and collapsed against his back.

They rolled over, lying side by side on the bed, ignoring the wet spot.

"Talk about being a sap," Noah panted, resting his sweaty head on Finn's chest. "You are _never,_ and I mean _never _telling anybody about that."

"You said you love it," Finn said, his head still reeling. He twitched with an aftershock. "And it's all still true." He tried to sit up, failed, and gave up, lying boneless on the soggy bed.

"Well, maybe not the brothers part." Noah groped for a bottle of water on the floor and brought it to his lips, only spilling a little. He passed it to Finn, who managed to get an arm to work well enough to hold it. "Because, you know. Ew."

Finn snorted laughter, trying not to spray the water across the bed. "Okay. Not brothers. But… friends. Hearts, lives." He turned his head, with an effort, to look at Noah. "That's all true."

"You really want that?" Noah sounded subdued, almost awed. "With me?"

"Yeah," said Finn, and he felt his heart rise up, into his throat, almost choking in its intensity. "Always."

Noah was silent for a minute. He nudged Finn for the water, and took another pensive drink. "My mom says nobody stays with their high school sweetheart."

"Is that a good reason not to be together? Now that we… I don't think I could avoid being with you if I tried." Noah's smile warmed Finn from within, and he smiled back as Noah leaned down to kiss him.

Both of them jumped back at the jangle of the hotel telephone. They stared at one another, then Noah reached over and snagged it. "Talk. Ah – good morning, _Kurt," _he purred. "Yes, thank you, I slept just fine. You? Well, you can recover this afternoon." He sat up and toweled the sweat off his head onto a clean part of the sheet. "Breakfast – that sounds good."

Then Finn saw a glint in his eye, and heard him say, "No, I haven't seen Finn this morning. It was – a hard night." Finn gave him an outraged look, and Noah grinned and waved a pacifying hand at him: _Wait. _ "Yeah, I'll be down in about a half hour. See you."

"What was that all about?" Finn said, gingerly sitting up, wincing a little. _I'm sore in places I didn't even know I _had, he thought, and shook his head in bemused wonder. Finn's cell phone began to ring ("A House is Not A Home"), but before he could reach for it, Noah put a hand on his.

"Oh, I think we owe Mr. I-Know-So-Fucking-Much Hummel a _big_ thank you for last night," Noah said smugly. "And I know just how to do it. Listen…."


	20. Chapter 20

"Can I get you something to drink?" the waitress asked, pausing at Kurt's table.

"Do you have espresso?" he asked hopefully. She nodded. "I'll have a double latte, skim, please." Kurt was fortunate enough to be blessed with anti-hangover genes, but even he had to admit that three hours of sleep was not going to be enough to get them back to Lima without a lot of coffee. And after the way Finn had sounded on the phone, he was going to need to run interference between Puck and him all the way home.

Finn had been positively grouchy, refusing to give details, and Puck had sounded cool and collected. Neither had mentioned anything of substance about the other. He fiddled nervously with his hair. _This had not turned out the way he'd hoped._

Puck sauntered in, comfortably dressed in last night's jeans and a white t-shirt. "'Sup, Hummel," he drawled, pulling up a chair.

"Good morning, Puck," Kurt said, eyeing him. "You said you… slept okay?"

"Mmmmm," Puck agreed, stretching. "Yeah, I crashed out right after I got back." He took a sip of water. "Finn said you got another room last night. What was that all about?"

"Well," Kurt said, and paused, feeling uncertain, and more than a little disappointed. "I don't know. I guess I thought… well. Never mind."

"Here you go," said the waitress, setting the latte in front of Kurt, who took a big grateful swallow. "Would you like anything?" she asked Puck.

"Coffee," Puck said. "Cream, no sugar."

"Are you ready to order?" she asked, but Kurt was distracted by the sight of Finn, damp from the shower and clearly not feeling his best. He noticed Kurt and Puck, and, without a word to either one, walked straight to the empty chair across from Puck and sat down.

"Finn?" Kurt said plaintively.

"Nothing for me," Finn said. Now Kurt was really worried. _Finn, not eating?_ He didn't think he'd ever seen him do that.

"I'm starving," Puck announced. "I'll have the number three combo. Do you have turkey sausage? I'll have that, thanks." He handed the waitress the menu and didn't look at Finn, but smiled pleasantly at Kurt. Kurt raised an eyebrow and glared pointedly at Finn. Puck shrugged.

"I'll, um, have a southwestern omelette with no yolks," Kurt said, watching Finn fiddle with his fork. As soon as the waitress was gone, Kurt put a hand on Finn's. "Finn, what happened last night?"

"I'm not really sure," Finn said crossly. "I don't remember much. Was I drinking?" He shook his head.

"Graham said he bought you two beers," Kurt said, "but that's not much for you. Are you feeling okay?"

"Wait, Graham said?" Puck raised an eyebrow. "When did you talk with him? When I left, you guys had just met."

Kurt bit his lip and looked from Puck to Finn and back. "Don't tell my dad," he begged. "I went back to the club after I walked you to the hotel, Finn. No, I didn't go alone," he added hurriedly, at Finn's outraged expression. "Graham came to the hotel and walked back with me. He brought me home when the club closed."

"You stayed until closing?" Puck accepted the coffee from the waitress with a nod. "Damn, Hummel, that's hard core."

"Graham called to let me know I'd won a door prize." Kurt pulled a black plastic-wrapped package from under his chair. "A Masque t-shirt. Not my size, sadly." He laid it on the table. "He said he would come get me – I wasn't tired, Finn, and _nothing happened,_ seriously. Stop giving me that look."

"What look?" Finn grumbled.

"That one like I'm your little brother and you want to step on anybody who looks at me funny."

"You're one month younger," Finn pointed out. "And I bet you danced with David when I wasn't there to stop you." Kurt blushed and took refuge in his latte. Finn glared at him. "I won't tell Dad. But seriously, what were you thinking? All kinds of stuff could have happened to you there by yourself."

"Graham was watching out for me the whole time," Kurt insisted. "He was really sweet. He told me – " He cut off what he was about to say about Jason and his Prince Charming, looking back and forth from Finn to Puck. He felt miserable.

"Well," Puck said, reaching over to unwrap the t-shirt, checking the tag, "if you don't fit into this, maybe I can give it to my boyfriend? It's about his size."

"Your – boyfriend?" Kurt echoed.

"Yeah," Puck nodded, grinning. He stood up and walked around behind Finn, holding the shirt up against his back. "I bet he'd look really hot in it." He leaned over, captured Finn's face in his hand, and gave him a wet, sloppy kiss. With tongue.

"Jesus H. Christ –" Kurt stammered, flushing hot, and averted his eyes. "Finn – Puck…!"

"Not Puck," Finn said, looking a little pink. "This is Noah."

"Pleased to meet you, Kurt," said Puck – _Noah,_ holding out a hand. Kurt shook it, feeling numb.

"So what happened to Jason?" he asked.

"He's grounded," said Noah, placing his hands on Finn's shoulders. Finn reached a hand up to touch one of Noah's. Kurt stared at that hand, and felt a smile starting. "He's not allowed out of the club. And Puck needs some juvie time for bad behavior. I'm gonna stick with being Noah for the summer."

"And Noah is – um. Gay? Bi?" Kurt looked at Finn, who shrugged.

"Noah's in love with me," said Finn, and Kurt watched as Noah ducked his head and turned red. "That's all that matters."

Kurt suppressed a squeal, one hand to his mouth. "I knew it! You guys –" he stood up, stormed across to the other side of the table and hit them both, hard, on the arm. They defended themselves half-heartedly, laughing. Finn stood up and accepted Kurt's tight hug with embarrassed pleasure.

"I'm so, so thrilled for you," Kurt whispered into his ear.

"Thank you, Kurt," Finn whispered back. "Thank you for everything." His eyes were bright, now. Kurt sighed happily, bouncing on his toes.

"This was _your_ idea, wasn't it?" he said accusingly, turning on Noah, who inclined his head. "You had me completely fooled, you big jerk."

"I don't think you're the one to talk, Hummel," Noah said, raising an eyebrow. "This whole trip – this was all planned out? To – what? To get me and Finn together?"

"Well, to see what would happen," Kurt said, sitting back down and crossing his legs. "Ever since I realized how you felt about Finn, we were all just waiting for –"

"Yeah, and _when_ did you realize this?" Noah stirred his coffee, adding more cream. "How did you figure it out? It wasn't something I ever talked about with anybody. _Anybody."_

"No talking was necessary. You've been mooning over each other since before Glee club started. Seriously." Kurt gave them both a meaningful look, and they had the grace to look sheepish. "We've all been waiting and waiting, and - well, I just got sick of waiting. You needed a serious intervention."

The waitress came by with their food. "Did you change your mind about breakfast?" she asked Finn.

"No, I'm all set," Finn said, reaching out for the plate in front of Noah and setting it on the table in front of himself. "Thanks for ordering for me," he added, giving Noah a shy smile, and took a big forkful of eggs.

"No problem, babe," Noah said, smirking at Kurt, who rolled his eyes.

"Rachel told me about the bet," Finn said, his mouth full.

"Yes, the bet. Santana and Brittany started that. They have a whole chart with odds and everything. Brittany illustrated it with little kissing Finn-and-Puck cartoon figures. You'll have to see it to believe it." Kurt cocked his head at Finn. "Is Rachel okay? She was prepared for this, believe me, but that doesn't mean it was easy for her. Did she sound all right on the phone?"

"Yeah, she was okay." Finn swallowed his eggs and scooped the turkey sausage onto a little plate, then passed it to Noah. Their hands brushed, and Kurt watched his gaze go soft. Kurt cleared his throat. Finn looked up, startled. "Oh. Uh, yeah, she wasn't angry at all. Maybe a little sad. She said she was going to write a song about it."

"I can't wait to hear that," Kurt laughed.

"It can't be any worse than My Headband," said Noah.

Finn sighed. "So, if everybody in Glee already knows, I guess I just have to tell my – our parents."

"Er – not exactly." Kurt nibbled a fingernail and looked at the ceiling.

"Kurt!" Finn stared at him. "What did you tell them?"

"They know, Finn," Kurt said. "They've known for a long time. Your mom – she knew before I did. Probably for years." He watched Finn and Noah exchange a heated glance, and he looked away. _There are things I really don't want to know._ "We planned this trip together. Me, Carole, Dad, and Blaine – and Graham."

"What?" Noah looked stunned. "How do you know Graham?"

"Blaine came down to Masque on the last teen night with his friend Reed. They saw the poster of Jason, and told me about it. I called the club and talked to Brett, and Graham helped me set everything up. He was there to keep an eye on you, Finn, and make sure things went… okay. That you didn't freak out."

"I did freak out," admitted Finn. "A couple of times. But it turned out all right." He shook his head. "No, better than all right." Noah reached out and grabbed his hand, and they grinned stupidly at each other.

"I can already tell you guys are going to be insufferable all summer," Kurt sighed, taking a bite of omelette.

"Yeah, Kurt," Noah said, with a wicked glance at Finn. "Can we stop at the drugstore on the way home? I'm pretty sure we're out of condoms already."

Kurt barely got his napkin up in time to catch the omelette bits that came flying out of his mouth. "_Noah!"_ he spluttered, staring at Finn, who was laughing hysterically.

"Yeah," Finn added. "Don't forget an extra bottle of lube, to keep at your house."

"_Not listening,"_ Kurt moaned, dropping his fork and putting two fingers into his ears.

"I promise, we won't have sex in your bed," said Noah, a little too loudly, just as their waitress stopped by with the check. She looked at him, startled, then at Finn, and gave them a surprisingly approving smile before handing the check to Noah.

"Congrats, Jason," she whispered. "He's cute." He grinned as he tucked some bills inside and handed it back to her.

"Seriously, Kurt," added Noah. "You've got a great brother. I missed him a lot when he moved in with you guys."

"I… I realized that last night," said Kurt. "You two were like brothers for a long time before Finn and I even knew each other. I feel like I stepped into your shoes, in a way. I didn't mean to do that. I hope you can forgive me."

"It's fine, Kurt. We're not brothers anymore. It's your place now. But…" He coughed, and took a sip of coffee. "I kind of miss having a brother."

Kurt looked at him for a long moment. He cocked his head. "How about a brother-in-law?" he said.

Noah laughed, and squeezed Finn's hand. "I think that would be a brother-out-law."

* * *

><p><em>(Author's note: One more brief epilogue after this, and the story's done. Now, my question for you, dear readers, is: how many Cinderella allusions can you find in Road Trip? Because there are a ton, and <em>_not one__ of them was intentional. Seriously. My muse is clever and sneaky. Please comment with any you can find. I'm really curious to see what you notice. Thank you so much for reading to the end! -amy)_


	21. Chapter 21

Kurt sighed, shuffling things around in the front of the Range Rover as he idled in front of the hotel. _Come on, guys,_ he texted Finn. _Gas is four bucks a gallon and I'm wasting it. Don't make me come up there._

Finn eventually emerged from the revolving doors with his bag, looking flushed. "Sorry," he muttered, opening the driver's side door, then pausing, seeing the pile of Kurt's things in the front seat.

"Too crowded up here, brother of mine," Kurt said briskly. "Get in the back."

Finn complied, folding his long limbs into the rear seat. Then he leaned against the window, gazing at the hotel, where Noah was talking animatedly with the doorman. "Why is it so hard to leave, Kurt?" he said, looking troubled. "I know we're going to have time to hang out this summer. What's the big deal?"

Kurt reached a hand back and put it on Finn's knee. "It's the Road Trip, right? You don't want it to be over. The spell, this connection, will be broken. Reality will hit. Things will be messier, more complicated." He smiled. "But you've got people who care about you, at home, too. It's going to be okay."

"Are you sure?" Finn sounded lost, unsure. Kurt slapped Finn's knee lightly.

"Of course I am," he said. "Stop that. You love him, right?"

"Yeah," Finn said softly. He smiled as Noah made the doorman laugh. "I really do."

"I know you do. So trust in that. It's going to be okay," he said again.

"So do you know, like, everybody in this fricking city?" Finn said, poking Noah as he climbed in the back seat behind Kurt. Noah shrugged.

"It's amazing how many people know Brett and Graham," he said. "They've helped me make some great connections in dance, too. Roger, his cousin works for the dance company that's holding the audition for Sleeping Beauty."

"And you're going to drive down next week for that, right?" Finn looked expectantly at Noah, who looked at the floor, then the ceiling, and finally sighed.

"Yeah, I'll do it."

"When are we heading down?" Finn said, and Noah rested a hand on his leg, just for a moment. Then Kurt pressed play on the mix CD he'd made, and none of them said anything for a while.

Kurt glanced at them in the mirror periodically. They sat separately, lost in their own thoughts, but he saw Noah inch a leg over to bump Finn's, and Finn let his hand linger a little extra long on Noah's arm. It was the same stuff they'd always done, always - the things that had given them away long before they'd been awake to them. Kurt smiled.

By the time they hit Troy, their hands were clasped in the middle of the seat between them, fingers intertwined. A few miles later, as they passed through Piqua, they'd inclined their bodies together in the center so they were leaning on one another. Kurt watched as Finn put his head on Noah's shoulder and said something into his ear. It took him a minute to realize Finn was singing the lyrics to the song that was playing. Noah listened, shaking his head, but he was grinning, and that looked like a kiss he brushed onto Finn's skin, just in passing.

By Sidney, Finn had moved to the middle seat (securely re-seatbelted in, at Kurt's insistence) and Noah had his arms around him, gently stroking a pattern on the front of his shirt. Their bodies fit together so comfortably that Kurt wasn't sure he hadn't already seen this somewhere, the two of them holding each other. The look on Noah's face, though, was so different than what Kurt was accustomed to seeing at school, from Puck, that he spent a long time watching him in the mirror. He was… well, _tender._ Kurt hoped he'd see more of that look from Noah in the future, because Finn's appreciation of it was clear.

And, of course, now the songs that Kurt had chosen for their Road Trip mix were playing, and they were starting to notice. Some of the songs were on there just for fun, of course ("Fuck You"), and some were there for Kurt to sing along to with gusto ("My New Philosophy"), but there were more than a few he'd picked in the hopes they'd give the guys a clue ("Hot Blooded," "La Vie Boheme,""Green Light," and so on).

Now, every time a new song came on, they listened carefully for the lyrics, singing along to those they knew, but otherwise sitting in silence, basking in the connection of their bodies, and remembering - Kurt was sure they were remembering. He carefully did _not_ think of them needing more condoms, or lube.

He called Blaine. "Well?" was Blaine's anticipatory greeting.

"Success," he said quietly.

"Oh, well done," Blaine cried. "Is it all you hoped it would be?"

"Better. They're positively oblivious to everything except each other. Oh, and you really need to meet Noah."

"Noah, huh?" Blaine sounded skeptical. "I saw Jason. Is he anything like that? Did he dance, too?"

"He dances, but not like that," Kurt said. "I think he's the real deal. The masks are gone."

"Wow." Now he was impressed. "You did something good, Kurt."

"Yes," Kurt said, glowing. "I did."

Around about Botkins, they both fell asleep in the back seat. Finn lay with his mouth open on Puck's chest, fingers of one set of hands intertwined. Their other hands lay loosely upon one another's hearts. Kurt hesitated, then pulled over carefully onto the shoulder of highway I-75 and took a picture with his phone. Then he sent it to his dad, and Carole, with a message: _I thought you might want to see the happy ending. We're coming home._

* * *

><p><em>(Author's note: Well, it's been 30 days since I started writing this story, dear readers, and what a wild ride it's been! I've learned so much along the way and have fallen in love with Dancer!Puck and Clueless!Finn. Perhaps we'll see them again on another trip to Dayton in the future. Thank you for all your feedback and support along the way.<em>

_The Cinderella allusions were really popping out at me when I started to think about them! It was amazing. You came up with some great ones. Here's a partial list – there may be more:_

_- the shoes_

_- the club, Masque (another name for a costume ball)_

_- Carole, the stepmother – not so evil though_

_- Kurt, the step(brother)_

_- fairy dust from Wanda_

_- Graham, the fairy god(father), watching out for Finn_

_- Prince Charming (both of them!)_

_- the concept of moving into a fantasy world for one night, and putting on another identity like a costume_

_- Jason leaving the club at midnight, and Finn running after him_

_- the coach (the Range Rover)_

_- happily ever after_

_Finally, here's a selection of lyrics from the songs on the Road Trip mix - the lyrics that might have jumped out at Kurt when he was making the CD, perhaps, or the lines Finn now sings really loud when he plays the mix for the eighteenth time in the shower. You can still download the road trip mix here: http:/www. mediafire. com/file/yx5re2igqf3day2/Road%20Trip% and the club mix here: http:/www. mediafire. com/file/1w3ubelucre69yp/Club%_

_Enjoy! -amy)_

Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the border line

Of the edge and where I walk alone

Nobody's Side – from Chess

The one I should not think of

Keeps rolling through my mind

And I don't want to let that go

Peace of Mind – Boston

Lots of people have to make-believe they're living,

Can't decide who they should be

Hot Blooded – Foreigner

You don't have to read my mind, to know what I have in mind

Honey you oughta know

Now you move so fine, let me lay it on the line

I wanna know what you're doin' after the show

Crazy - Gnarls Barkley

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb

And all I remember is thinking, I want to be like them

Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun

And it's no coincidence I've come

And I can die when I'm done

Maybe I'm crazy

Maybe you're crazy

Maybe we're crazy

Probably

La Vie Boheme – from Rent

To being an 'us' for once

Instead of a 'them'

La vie boheme

Fly By Night – Rush

Fly by night, away from here

Change my life again

Fly by night, goodbye my dear

My ship isn't coming and I just can't pretend

Estelle – American Boy

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American Boy

Unworthy of Your Love – from Assassins

I am nothing,

You are wind and water and sky

John Legend – Green Light

baby its just the thrill of the chase

but i got a feelin' i'm winnin' this race

baby i'm gettin' much closer

i just need permission so...

give me the green light

give me just one night

im ready to go right now

we could go all night

Nobody Needs to Know – from The Last Five Years

Put on my armor

I'm off to Ohio

Back into battle till

I don't know when

Swearing to her that I was

Never with you

And praying I'll hold you again

Beautiful Surprise - India Arie

You're always on my mind

I never could have predicted that I'd feel this way

You're a beautiful surprise

Intoxicated every time I hear your voice

You've got me on a natural high

It's almost like I didn't even have a choice

No One Like You - Scorpions (Finn loves this one)

There's no one like you

I can't wait for the nights with you

I imagine the things we'll do

I just wanna be loved by you

Musiq Soulchild – Just Friends

See, I know this might be strange

But let me know if I'm out of order

For stepping to you this way

See I've been watching you for a while

And I just gotta let you know

That I'm really feeling your style

Out of My Hands – Dave Matthews (Puck thinks this is really creepy)

Out on my window ledge

I don't feel safe

And I stay

Looking down on you

It's out of my hands for now

For Good – from Wicked

And just to clear the air

I ask forgiveness

For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know

There's blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore

VV Brown – Game Over

Oh no, I've started a war

My emotions are just cuttin' me raw

Oh no, you lowered your score

'Cos you messed up good and I cannot ignore

I'm Free/Heaven Helps the Man – from Footloose

Heaven helps the man who fights his fear

Every day I face a new frontier

I can't worry what the world will say

I may fly or fall but either way

I'm free


	22. Epilogue: Family

_(Author's note: The motif for the second day of Pinn Week is Family. Ever since I saw the scene in season 4 with Jake Puckerman telling Ryder he studied ballet, I knew I was going to need to write a follow-up to Road Trip. Here's Noah, later that summer after returning to Lima after that transformative weekend. Obviously spoilers for that story, so you might want to read it first if you have not yet done so. -amy)_

* * *

><p>"Noah?" He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"<p>

"Sure," he said, yawning. He hadn't even figured out who was talking yet, but they'd called him _Noah,_ so he wasn't in Dayton. And if they were offering him food, that was a question he always answered with a yes. He blinked, withdrawing slowly from sleep, and saw it was Mrs. Hudson. "Uh... sorry, did I...?" He looked over at the television, which had made its way to a commercial, and the clock, which told him the game had been over for half an hour.

"It's fine," she said gently. "You don't have rehearsal today, do you?"

"Not on Sunday, no." He cracked his neck and unfolded from the recliner.

She smiled. "Well, then, getting a little extra sleep is a good thing, isn't it?"

Mrs. Hudson was in the running for World's Best Mom, as far as Noah was concerned. She'd basically let him move in when his own Ma had expressed extreme displeasure about his job at Masque. Okay, maybe pole dancing wasn't super glamorous, and maybe he'd lied about his age, but they'd hired him, hadn't they? And Brett and Graham knew, and he _knew_ they knew, and even though nobody was saying anything about it, he was sure they'd find a way to keep him around until his eighteenth birthday next summer. After that... well, nobody expected him to stick around after school was over. Not since Finn.

Noah switched off the television and moved to the floor, beginning his stretches. He could blame Finn for the rehearsals, too, kind of. Noah was pretty sure he wouldn't have decided to audition for _Sleeping Beauty_ without his encouragement. He was kind of amazed he'd gotten the Blue Bird solo without having a teacher to help him prepare his audition. At least that was temporary. Miss Ankundinov wasn't currently in the country, but she would be again starting in October, and he'd been putting a little money aside every paycheck to cover studio time with her.

But Finn had been the one to smile at him when he'd mentioned the audition, and had said excitedly, _You're gonna do it, right?_ He didn't even care that Noah would basically disappear into rehearsals for almost a month, driving down to Dayton every other day and crashing with Graham and Brett the other nights. And weekend rehearsals plus working at the club on Saturdays meant he was pretty much dead to the world on Sunday.

Finn had driven with him to the audition and sat in the auditorium watching, grinning like an idiot the whole time. When Noah had come down from the stage, drenched in sweat, he'd taken him into the hallway and kissed him up against the wall, drawing catcalls and several propositions.

"You were amazing," Finn said, his eyes roving over Noah's face, like it was a buffet of all of his favorite foods. Noah just grinned.

"You would have said that even if I had sucked."

"You wouldn't have sucked," Finn pointed out. Then he kissed him again for a while before running out to pick up sandwiches. He stayed with him while Noah waited for callbacks, without one word about the sweat all over his shirt, and when Noah was chosen to do the _pas de deux_ with one of the girls, he took a video of it on his phone to bring home to Kurt and Mr. Hummel and Mrs. Hudson.

Things had still been new enough between him and Finn at that point that he was a little embarrassed to be shown off in front of Finn's mom like that, even if she apparently had been aware of what was going on between them all along. It was weeks before he'd screwed up the courage to approach her alone. She'd been gardening, but when she saw the expression on her face, she'd put down her trowel and sat down on the lawn.

"Noah," she said, gravely. Of all people, Mrs. Hudson had never questioned his decision to change his name back. He smiled, feeling ridiculously exposed, but he steeled himself, knowing she'd never be upset about what he had to say, either.

"Um..." He crouched down beside her, gazing at the flowers. "This thing... with me and Finn."

She smiled. "Your relationship's changed a little. Burt and I noticed."

They hadn't changed the way they were in front of Finn's family, not at that point, but no one could have failed to pick up on how much time they spent behind closed doors.

"A little," he agreed weakly. "I guess you knew, though?"

"I've known for a long time." She didn't sound upset or annoyed by this, which was a relief. "I know my son. It was clear to me Quinn and Rachel weren't the ones making him feel safe and happy, but I wasn't going to say anything until he figured it out for himself." She reached out with one gloved hand and touched his knee. "You've always been part of the family, Noah. It's not any different, now."

"Cool." He picked at the hem of his cutoffs. "I've been trying to figure out what to do about fall. About... everybody, and school."

"Are you considering dropping out?" She sounded concerned, but not like she was judging him. "It's going to be hard in the fall, with you playing that part in Dayton."

"I was thinking about that, yeah. If I could study for the GED, there's a chance to take it in November."

"Rather than going back and facing everyone, you mean?"

"It's not so much that," he protested. "If I did the GED instead of waiting for spring, I could be done early enough to... um." He ducked his head, uncertain about how much to say regarding the plans he'd dreamed with Finn about college. "It'd give me more flexible time to rehearse, see what other parts I could get in the winter besides the usual Nutcracker. My director says this role should open up some bigger doors for me."

"That's reassuring. I'm glad you're thinking about your future." She smiled. "If there's anything Burt or I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Yeah, that's kind of the thing. I'm... my Ma, she's not so happy about the dancing I'm doing at Masque. I haven't even told her about Finn and she's freaking out anyway."

"Because it's a gay club?"

"I don't even know," he admitted. "Maybe?"

She nodded. "Do you want me to talk to her?"

"I don't think that's going to help." He grimaced. "When she's working, I can get away with sneaking in and out, but when she's home, it's just... bad. I could use a place to crash, sometimes."

"Noah Puckerman," Carole said, sounding amused. "Are you asking for permission to sleep over?"

Before he could even stammer out a denial, she was climbing to her feet, dusting off her jeans. "You're always welcome, honey. We have a guest room if Finn decides he'd rather have some privacy. And no matter what Burt says, everyone will respect a closed door around here."

Noah was pretty sure he'd hugged her and said something ridiculously grateful after that, after which he'd hurried back into the house to find Finn and try out their new closed door policy.

It was hard for Noah to stay away from the Hudson-Hummel's after getting that kind of permission, and aside from some good-natured eye-rolling from Kurt, nobody said one word about him being there in Finn's room most nights. He showed up at his own house occasionally, long enough to make sure his sister was still eating okay and nobody had sold his stuff, and figured that was good enough. It would have to be, for now.

In the middle of his hamstring stretch, Noah's phone rang. It wasn't a number he recognized, but it was a Dayton area code, so he figured it had to be someone with the club or the theater. "This is Jason."

"Oh - I was looking for someone else. I think?" The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"Who are you looking for?"

"I need to talk to... um, Noah? Although I hear he's going by Puck these days."

Noah leaned into the other leg. "Depends. But you've got the right number. Who is this?"

"Noah?" The voice quieted, then resumed, a little gruffer. "It's your dad."

He knew better than to pop up out of a stretch like that, but it took him by surprise, and he winced as he felt a twinge. "Uh - hi."

"Before you go getting all uptight about me calling you, I should mention I'm here asking for a favor. Not for me, but for someone else who could use your special brand of expertise."

Noah had a million questions, but few of them were kind and none of them were simple. "I'm not really an expert at anything."

"That's not what this article in the Dayton Daily says." He heard the rustling of paper, and then his dad again, laboriously reading: "_Featuring in the role of the Blue Bird, Jason Walker makes his Dayton ballet debut_. And a huge color picture of _my kid,_ doing some kind of flying dance move thing_._ What, is that your stage name?"

"Something like that. Dad, what -?" He took a helpless breath. "I haven't heard from you in years, and now...?"

"I told you, it's not for me. Your mom's not so keen on the idea of me being around, but I'm feeling a little desperate." Noah heard him sigh. "It's about my son."

At first, Noah wanted to say, _who, me?_ before realizing what that implied. His dad was talking about some other kid. It made sense, he guessed, but it still felt like a double blow. "You got married again?"

"No, they don't live with me, Jake and his mom. But Tanisha called me when Jake started having problems, thinking about quitting. She knew you used to dance."

_Used to._ Noah gazed down the length of his legs, imagined what his dad would say if he mentioned the tights he'd worn at the theater on Friday, or the super-short briefs he always sported when he danced on the pole at Masque. "Still do."

"Apparently. And that's why I need you, Noah. Jake... he's good. Like, _really_ good. Like you were."

Noah gritted his teeth. "If he's really good, he doesn't need some guy he's never met getting in his face about it. Figure it out yourself, _dad._ And don't bother calling back."

He thumbed off his phone and tossed it on the couch before going to find Finn, who was outside in the garage with Kurt. They were crouched beside a lawn mower which had been dismantled into components too small for Noah to recognize. Kurt looked more than a little irritated, but he was still using his patient voice with Finn, which told Noah it was time to intervene.

"Hey," he said, tugging on Finn's arm. "I need your advice."

"Is that what they're calling it these days," Kurt muttered, but he didn't prevent Noah from directing Finn back into the house.

Finn was grinning as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen. "Since when do you need my advice on anything?"

"Since my freaking _dad_ called," moaned Noah.

Finn immediately moved in close, apparently not caring who might walk in on them, and put enough pressure on his arms to calm him down. Noah rested his forehead against Finn's collarbone and rolled it from side to side.

"What did he want?" Finn asked quietly.

"Well, apparently I have a _brother,_ and he's a better fucking dancer than, like, God, and my dad's all invested in keeping him dancing even though they don't -"

"Hold on, hold on. You have a brother?" Finn didn't sound upset about this. He sounded kind of excited and pleased. Noah tipped his face up far enough to glare at him.

"This is _so_ not about that. Are you on my side or what?"

"You don't even have to ask that question, ever. And he's a _dancer?_ I mean, what were the odds? Where does he live?"

Noah just kept shaking his head, until finally Finn gave up and hugged him.

"He gave up on me," Noah said, when he'd regained control of his breathing. "He took off and fucking gave up on me, and my Ma, and Sarah, and now he wants me to help this _kid_ I've never even heard of before because he's my relative? Dude, _the fuck?"_

"You don't have to," said Finn. "Really, you don't. Especially not for that reason."

Noah tucked his arms in tighter and huddled in against Finn's chest, knowing it was pointless to try to wait him out. Finn wasn't going to give up until Noah said everything. Perversely, this made him hang onto his silence even longer, because he knew it would be okay. Eventually, he sighed.

"Remember when I told your mom I was thinking about dropping out of school and taking the GED instead?"

"Yeah."

"It would make sense, right? School sucks, get it over with, keep my job, do more auditions. All logical and reasonable." He breathed through the shame. "Except. It's not about any of that shit. I just don't want to have to deal with people looking at us and saying we're - anything other than awesome. Because we are."

Finn held on tighter. "I know."

"I don't know if I can handle it. All that shit Kurt went through... I'm not strong like that."

"Yeah, you are."

"I'm telling you, man," he said, the anger bursting out in a rolling wave, "I'm _not._ There's a fucking reason I hid behind Jason for so long."

"I'm the one who was the idiot, who couldn't see what you were dealing with alone all through junior year." Finn held him at arm's length, just far enough to let Noah see the curiosity in his eyes. "You really think because you hid like that somehow means you're not strong? I think it's the other way around."

Noah shook his head. "You've got to be kidding me. Lying to everybody about who I am and what I'm doing? That's, like, the most cowardly thing I can think of."

"I don't know. I guess we do what we have to, in order to get by. You got a job to help your mom and your sister." Finn smiled. "I don't know if I can be anything but kind of impressed with you for that."

Noah resisted the smile, but it found him anyway. "Fuck, Hudson. You're such a dork."

"Maybe," he said easily. "But I think you can give your family a hand without feeling obligated to your deadbeat dad. He doesn't automatically get to be family just because you're related to him."

"I guess not. He can still just be the asshole who took off."

"Sure." Finn nudged his shoulder. "So I'm just going to point out that you're still giving your mom your checks, even though she's being kind of awful about your job."

"Yeah, but that's..." Noah trailed off. "Okay, I guess that's kind of the same. I just can't hate my Ma? She's being awful about my job because she thinks it's bad for me. I mean, she's not wrong. I'm not getting much sleep, it's a lot of fucking driving, there's guys groping me every weekend..."

Finn gave him a look. "You're not really helping your case, here, man."

"No, but..." He placed a hand flat on Finn's chest. "Those things don't matter so much, right? Because Brett and Graham, and everybody at Masque, that's kind of like part of my family now, too. Even if it's a little fucked up." He looked up at Finn. "Okay, I think I know what you've been trying to tell me now."

"Oh, yeah?" Finn grinned quizzically. "You want to share it with me? Because I'm the one who's clueless, remember?"

"Whoever this kid is, my... brother... if he's anything of a dancer like I was, I know what he's going through. It sounds like he's freaking out about people judging him."

His grin widened. "And...?"

"And I guess he could use somebody to talk to." Noah huffed at Finn's triumphant expression. "_And, _before you go getting all full of your fucking self, I'm gonna head over to my house."

He almost felt bad about the way Finn's grin slipped away. "Why?"

"Because before I tell anybody else about us, I'm gonna have to tell my Ma." He leaned in and planted a firm kiss on Finn's stunned face. "Wish me luck."

Finn seized his head in both hands and kissed him back, hard enough to make Noah lose some of his momentum. He wasn't complaining, though, and he let his hands stray to Finn's ass for a few moments, cupping it through his jeans.

"You know how goddamn proud I am of you?" Finn whispered against his cheek.

_You make me want to be the person you see me to be,_ Noah wanted to tell him, but he figured he'd better go earn some of that respect before he spent any time reveling in it. "Hold that thought, babe. And then you and me, we'll take a trip down to Dayton to meet this Jake, and see what kind of a dancer he is."


End file.
